Sneezes and Sword Fights
by Joannawrites
Summary: Sequel to "Dragons or Ribbons." When Aragorn takes ill, Arwen persuades an unsuspecting Legolas to care for the ungracious and surly King. *complete*
1. The Nurse

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Sneezes and Sword Fights 

By Joanna

*A sequel to Dragons and Ribbons, because so many of you were so kind and requested that I do another story without blood or angst (this one has some snot, so I hope that's okay!) 100% unadulterated fluff. It'll be done in a few chapters instead of one long one, so it's different from Dragons and Ribbons in that sense. 

*Disclaimer: Well, my dreams have not been answered. Aragorn and/or Legolas still aren't mine. I just checked. 

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Chapter One: The Nurse 

The King of Gondor was in an excessively bad mood.

And the Queen, quite frankly, and for not the first time, questioned her decision to remain in Middle Earth with the troublesome man she had married. 

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Elfstone, Elessar, Estel, Strider. He had carried all of those names upon his broad shoulders with grace and nobility, some since his childhood. And now, he sat, his bare feet dangling over the edge of their bed, and he looked much more like a petulant and mutinous child than his twelve-year old son had managed to look in quite some time.

"You can not go hunting with Legolas and Gimli. You are too ill. They will understand," Arwen told him firmly and not for the first time. Or the last, she feared. 

"I ab goig! We have made our plads! I feel much bedder!" Aragorn snapped back, and wiped the dripping end of his reddened nose on the back of his hand. Arwen did not try to suppress a sound of disgust at this and handed him a clean cloth, which he bunched in one hand as he erupted into a fit of wet and ominous coughing and sneezing into the other. 

"You see, Estel," she said quietly, striving to impress upon him her calm and rational tone. "You are just too sick to go. You will be better in a week. The weather will improve by then. It is better to wait." She saw him glance out the window, which the wind lashed with rain. 

"_I ab nod sig_!" he roared unintelligibly through his congested nose, just as one of the women who tended the royal family came into the room with an armful of clean bedding. 

Just as quickly, the chambermaid turned and fled. Arwen envied her very much.

"You are _not_ sick? That's not what you said two nights ago when you awakened the entire household from a sound sleep because you, and I believe these were your words, could not breathe through your nose at all and had been set upon by a great plague. You were wailing like an infant, and had most of the staff convinced you were upon your deathbed. You set the city in a panic." 

He glowered at her through watery eyes, defiant. "Ad you, dear wifed, said, and I believe thad these were your own words, 'stob actig as a child. Id is merely a bid of a chill.'" 

She backed up a step as he sneezed violently again and again and again, until at last he stopped with a sort of a groan of agony, and gasped for breath. He looked at her just the slightest bit sheepishly, and she could only hope her triumph and satisfaction were not too apparent in her features as she gazed evenly back at him.

"It _was_ only a chill that would have passed by now if you had not insisted upon going about your daily ride through the city in the pouring down rain the next morning, though I asked you not to. Now you are burning with fever and will likely be confined to your sickroom for the rest of the week!" Arwen reminded him sternly. "And I have very little sympathy for you at all." 

He muttered something under his breath that was almost certainly impolite, and Arwen took a step closer. "I did not hear you, Milord. Would you care to repeat your words?"

He glared but did not repeat himself, some small flicker of fear in his eyes. Finally, he drew a wheezing breath and asserted, "I ab de Kig! I ab goig hudig!" 

And to prove that he would do just that, he stood up too quickly, staggered, and just managed to catch the bedpost before he fell upon his face, swaying on his weakened legs. 

"You are the Kig?" Arwen questioned, and the smile, unbidden made its way across her lips.

This only served to annoy him more, which was rewarding for her. "De Kig! _Kig_!" He tried several more times to pronounce it correctly, and failed in equal measures with each subsequent try.

"Shhh, now. Yes, yes, you are the King," Arwen soothed because he was turning an alarming shade of purple and a vein stood out in his forehead. He finally was forced to sit back on the bed, gasping for breath. She approached him and trailed her fingertips across his heated forehead, relieved that he felt no hotter than he had before his tantrum. He closed his eyes and sniffled a little bit. 

"De Kig," he agreed quietly, and didn't protest at all as she turned down the heavy blankets on the bed and helped him ease back on them. He lay back on the pillow and as she pulled the covers up to his chin, he reached around the blankets and grasped her wrist weakly.

For a moment he studied her through long, lowering lashes, and she sat down at his side, letting him watch her as he would.

"I ab dyig. I cad nod go hudig."

"If you say so, my love," Arwen murmured, and patted his head when the urge to throttle him became very strong. "You would know best."

"You do nod have ady elvish medicid for thid?" He pleaded finally.

She smiled tenderly and leaned down, pressing cool lips to his heated cheek, then his forehead. Standing, she tucked the covers around him more tightly and then turned to walk away.

As she approached the door, she called back to him, "After all the names you have called me this morning, if I did have a remedy, you would be the very last to know, you fool of a man."

She glanced at him, saw that he was glaring at her down the long blade of his shining nose. 

"Long live the Kig," she called to him and shut the door firmly behind her, seconds before something heavy crashed and shattered on the other side of it.

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Once free of the sickroom, Arwen made her way down the stone hallway and paused in the doorway of her youngest daughter's room. There Gliriel, along with her older sister, Imeren, and Legolas, who was folded nearly in half, sat around a Hobbit table, drinking their pretend tea. 

These three, each so immeasurably dear to her, did not notice her presence, so she leaned against the doorframe and watched as Legolas thanked Gliriel politely and offered Imeren an empty plate. She daintily selected some imaginary pastry from the dish, which Legolas then passed to Gliriel, who studied it for some time before making her selection. At last, Legolas picked his invisible treat and set down the plate. 

The Prince of Mirkwood had been spared having pink ribbons tied all over his head this morning in lieu of the thick braid Imeren (or she guessed it was her eldest daughter because Gliriel couldn't manage it with her little fingers), had plaited down his back. It was held in place by a ribbon of more manly hue, a deep green. 

After her trying morning with her husband, it was an unexpected gift to be able to observe a scene free of strife. Her eyes flicked over the murals of Middle Earth Legolas had long ago painted on the walls, his gift upon hearing of the coming birth of their first child. Her smile broadened. With a mental wish of love to her father as her eyes passed Rivendell, she stepped into the room.

"Legolas, I believe you are starting to enjoy this daily ritual," Arwen said at last and grinned when Legolas nearly dropped his teacup. It was common knowledge that Legolas had returned every day to Gliriel's room in time for tea since he'd first arrived in Gondor two weeks ago. It was also, for the most part, left unspoken, at least after the first day where the story of Legolas and pink ribbons had reached all the way to the outer gates of Minas Tirith. 

"Good day, Lady. How is Aragorn feeling?"

"Excessively mean," Arwen replied in elvish through clenched teeth and Legolas gave her an understanding smile. 

"He is a warrior. He is unaccustomed to feeling helpless," Legolas tried.

"Do not make excuses for that horrible man!" Arwen warned Legolas as she walked around the table to drop kisses upon the shiny black heads of first Imeren, then Gliriel, who were busily chatting. "Why did I choose him?"

"I always thought it was that you wanted a palace," Legolas shrugged and grinned in the face of the scathing look she gave him. "That or you had simply gone mad."

"I have a favor to ask of you, mellon nin." Arwen said sweetly in an abrupt change of subject, which put Legolas instantly on his guard. He narrowed his eyes at her as she stood over him and he squatted in the hobbit chair.

"What?" he asked warily, well aware after several ages of knowing her that whatever was coming next would be more order than request.

"Aragorn is certainly very ill, but he is strong enough to recover within the week. However, there is danger of the illness spreading to the people in the house, who might then carry it to those in the city. One of his advisors is dangerously ill, and I fear that the rest of the household may become so as well if they remain here and interact with the King. I also fear for our children's health. It has become necessary to quarantine Estel. He needs someone to care for him, though, and I would not risk the staff. I would do it, but I feel that it is more important for me to take Gliriel, Imeren, and Eldarion to the other wing of the palace, to keep them safe from the illness. I do not wish to leave them in the care of another."

"You wish me to stay with Aragorn," Legolas murmured. "But I know so little of caring for the sick."

"There is no one else. You are the only other elf in the city, the only one safe from the spreading illness. I will leave you detailed instructions, and visit once a day. It is only a matter of being sure that he rests and eats properly. And at all costs, of being sure he does not leave his chambers." 

Legolas sighed, for he had not, nor any man or elf, had ever been able to deny the beauty above him what she wished. It was a battle lost ere it had begun. "As you wish, Evenstar." 

Arwen then smiled at him, and dropped a kiss on his brow. "You are ever so dear to me. And to Elessar, though he may not be charitable in voicing it in the coming days."

"And how does the King feel about being quarantined?" Legolas wondered, wincing as he climbed the great distance from hobbit chair to his feet.

Arwen's smile was mischievous enough to make him truly nervous. "You shall have to let me know the answer to that when you tell him."

And with a grand sweep of deep maroon velvet, she left him to his fate as Aragorn's nurse. 

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To Be Continued…

*"Dragons or Ribbons," the precursor to this fluffy bit, if you're interested, can be found by clicking on my name at the top of the story and visiting my author page. 


	2. Quarantine

Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

*To everyone who reviewed Chapter One, I've written you each a little something at the end of this chapter! Mostly inane babble to rival Gollum, but you know…also, see the very last note for an important question for you all!

Chapter Two: Quarantine

Legolas let himself into the King's chambers after taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, as he did in the moments before battle. The fireplace in the room was roaring. Someone had pulled the heavy tapestries tight across the rain-streaked windows to prevent the heat from escaping, and to prevent any cool draft from entering. It seemed that the sweltering closeness of the room pushed against his entry as if it were a wall. Even the air felt full of illness and fever. 

Arwen had already taken the children and the rest of the staff to the far end of the palace, leaving only he, Aragorn, and a few guards posted far down the hall at the entrance to the royal family's private quarters.

There was no one at all to save him, Legolas realized.

His first view of Aragorn was his long, red-tipped nose, protruding into the air from the massive mountain of blankets on the bed. The King was swathed in covers up to that nose. Loud snoring that might have rivaled Gimli's filled the room at uneven intervals. The lump on the bed rose and fell laboriously. There was a crackling wetness in the sound of Aragorn's breathing that Legolas found himself wincing at. 

Men, even fine ones such as this, were such unrefined, barbaric creatures. 

Aragorn's snoring ended on a choking sort of sound and he issued a startled sort of gasp and hacked once or twice before falling back into the cacophony of his rest. 

Legolas approached the bed silently and studied Aragorn with interest. His entire face was a bloody red, and Legolas could feel the heat radiating from him, even from a distance. Aragorn twitched uncomfortably in his sleep, muttering something that was lost in a fit of hard coughing.

Curious, because he had little experience with the sick, Legolas reached a fingertip to poke a little at Aragorn's flushed temple, and jumped a little, surprised at the dry, waxy, and hot feel of the fever that burned in the Elessar's skin. 

"I ab very sig, my love," Aragorn murmured at the touch, reaching up with characteristic quickness of his reactions, and grasping Legolas' fingers within his own. He brought them to his parched lips affectionately.

Shocked, Legolas could do nothing but stare as Aragorn kissed his fingertips.

Aragorn's eyes remained closed, but his brow wrinkled in confusion as he contemplated the hand within his grasp. It was too large, there were rough patches upon the first two fingers that he knew did not belong on his wife's silky skin…it was as if the calluses were the result of someone who often plucked a bow.

He jerked his hand back just as Legolas did the same, and startled, Aragorn opened his eyes very quickly.

That proved to be a foolish and intensely painful move, for the firelight seared right through his eyeballs and into the front of his brain like millions of tiny and vicious swords. He clasped his hand to his forehead, holding tightly to it lest it come apart from the rest of his skull. 

"You are nod my wife," Aragorn growled in irritation and removed his hand as the first blinding pains receded. He opened his eyes to the narrowest slits possible and glared up at Legolas.

"Aye, well, thank the Valar for that," Legolas said agreeably enough and watched as Aragorn's expression changed from annoyance to one of hope.

"I understand now, _Mellod nee_. You've come to rescue me frob this prison. Go get Gimleed. Led's go hudig."

"Hudig?"

"Hudig. _Hudig_. _Hudig_!" Aragorn tried vehemently to pronounce it, hissed in irritation, coughed, and when Legolas still looked perplexed, tried a different tactic. "Led's kill somb deer."

Legolas grinned. "Yes. I understood you the first time. I just found it amusing to hear you say it again."

Aragorn called him a very impolite name that Legolas understood the first time as well, which made telling him that he wasn't going anywhere much more enjoyable for the elf. "You can not go hunting. You are confined to this room. Quarantined."

"Whad are you talkig aboud?" Aragorn asked, pulling himself up on the pillows with effort that left him winded. "Quaradteed?"

Legolas' eyes passed briefly over Aragorn. It seemed that every hair was spiking in a different direction all over his head. His eyes were shot through with red and glassy with fever and water, and set within a face blazing like fire. All of that, along with the fierce growth of stubble on his face and throat and the increasingly dark expression he wore, made him look decidedly menacing. 

"Arwen decided," Legolas began, quickly placing the blame where it belonged, "that the rest of the household was in danger of catching your illness. Your advisor seems to have similar complaints, and he spent most of the day with you when you were first feeling ill. The others are not so strong as you, although I may point out that you are actually rather weak and that I have never, nor will I ever, be ill. But that is not the point. You are to be isolated to prevent any more outbreaks of the sickness."

"Where is Arwed?" Aragorn asked, narrowing his eyes. 

"She has gone with the household staff, as well as your children, to the North Wing." 

"Go ged her. She can nod confind me here in my own roomb like a…like a…" he searched for words wildly, waving his hands around. The exertion cost him, and he doubled over coughing.

Legolas took a deliberate step back from the bed. Not so much to avoid the coughing as to distance himself from Aragorn's reaction to his next piece of news. "Arwen did not want to leave the children in anyone else's care. Especially not if any of your servants are carriers of the sickness. She has gone to stay with them for the rest of the week."

"Then who is goig to loog after me?" Aragorn whined, slumping down on his pillows, and then as the realization of who would be caring for him started to take hold, his eyes rose slowly to the elf's, and he thought he saw a sadistic gleam of pleasure in Legolas' smug stare.

"Well, as I am the only other elf in the city, and as I cannot contract your illness, that task has been appointed to me," Legolas confirmed with satisfaction as Aragorn's eyes widened in what might have been fear. 

"I will cerdainly die now," Aragorn sighed in resignation and looked toward the window.

"It could be worse," Legolas tried, in vain, to comfort his friend.

"I ab stuck here wid you and no one else. How could id be worse?" 

"You are right. It really could not be. I was just trying to make you feel better."

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To my most incredible, most kind, most funny reviewers who have totally made all my days since I posted this: 

I was especially happy to see some of you who left me reviews for Dragons or Ribbons appear on the reviews for this one, because it gives me a chance to say thanks twice. I didn't get to do since I never posted anything on that one after the initial post of the first story. The reviews for that one were so kind and inspiring and so made me really want another idea to come to me so I could try the light hearted stuff again! Y'all ROCK!!!!!

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My Own: Thanks for being the very first reviewer! I always feel so much better when the first one is encouraging! I'm glad you liked Dragons or Ribbons too. I hope you'll like this one as much!

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Ruth: Hi again! My dog has long ago resigned herself that she has an insane owner. I don't fight it anymore. She was particularly scornful as I sat here and tried to talk with a stuffed up nose to figure out how Aragorn might sound when he was saying he was the "Kig." I guess it's good I live alone at present. Are you still on your cats' good side?

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PlatinumRoseLady: Hello! Aren't men babies? I've known some pretty "macho" men (their word, not mine) who absolutely fell to pieces when they got a stuffy nose. I just naturally assumed that the King of Gondor would be the same way. Bless his royal, and male, heart.

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Artemis: Hey man! Yeah, you hit it on the nose…it was SO a plot device, but that's no excuse for unclear story lines. I'll fix it in a revise. In the mean time, I tried to let Legolas "splain" it a little better in this chapter. Did it help or no? And you are too sweet, by the way! Thanks for the joke! Oh, and no, not everything I write is interesting…the majority of it could bore you out of your mind. I have the proof and it's a research paper on Uniqueness Theory and Advertising appeals! Well, half a research paper actually. That I should be working on now, incidentally.

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Dot: As if I needed any more encouragement to procrastinate! LOL. I got your review and set aside my reading for class straight away! I understand priorities.

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Dragon-of-the-North: Yes! Long Live the Kig! Hee Hee. I too like the idea of the sort of mundane everyday things being forced on the Middle Earth characters. Tolkien might not love it so much, but I'm glad someone else does! 

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Nuola: I certainly appreciate your kind words, about this one and about Dragons or Ribbons. I hope you were pleased with this new chapter!

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Alexa: Hi to you again too! I think a sick Legolas would be hilarious too…especially if they both ended up sick at the same time. I even thought about going against canon at one point in time and letting it happen, but changed my mind. Curse the annoying elves for being so unreasonably healthy. I'm sure this will annoy Aragorn to no end in the days to come.

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Lily of the Shadow: Hi friend! I like exclamation points! A lot! Your review snapped me to attention with them!!!!! Hee! Thanks!!!! I feel energized! Everyone should do lots of these!!!!!!

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Jedi-Faramir: I'm glad that you don't think I've done horrible things to Aragorn's character in this one. I figured anyone whose ever known a strong willed…or weak willed, for that matter, man might go along with me for a few chapters! I am all about Aragorn the man though, so I thought he'd forgive me this little digression from his manly-man side.

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Leiasky: Hi again! No, No, don't cover your mouth, disturb your coworkers. Laugh maniacally at your desk. I bet they leave you alone and don't give you more than your share of the work then! If you could wring your hands a little, or stroke a white cat, it might really seal the effect. I think I just mixed a metaphor there. Oh well. It's late. I just reviewed one of your stories, _Doom of Men_ (I think that was the correct title!). It was unbelievably outstanding and basically broke my heart, and I couldn't write anything else lighthearted afterwards! 

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Sparkle: Thank you, thank you. I worked for many long, hard minutes on the pronunciation and spelling of "Kig." There were many variations, if you can believe it. I'm so glad my hard work and ability to do "an accent" (apparently the only accent I can do) were appreciated! Hee hee.

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Starfolk: I too had need of _writing_ something lighthearted right now, so I'm glad if it provided you any escape at all, for that's the whole point in my writing it. I will try to keep the elf and the king from murder in the tradition of lifting people's spirits, but it may be a hard task! Aragorn is in a most ungracious mood, after all. 

As for Aragorn's voice, great suggestion and totally fair point. I'm actually in a dilemma about it how much "cold" dialect to include in the story. I'd considered doing all of Aragorn's lines in it, but I felt like it was becoming the whole story and I was afraid that people would get annoyed if there was too much deciphering to do…maybe I could try to do some toned down "cold speak" for the rest of it, as you suggested. I've tried it in this chapter a bit, but again, not everything is in the cold talk. I too thought it felt awkward going back and forth…then again, it takes me forever to sit here and try to do a stuffed up nose accent to see what things would sound like, so maybe it was a bit of laziness on my part too! I totally appreciate the comment though, and I agree with you…just not sure what the lesser evil is! What do you think? I'd love more comments on this. Is the new chapter better?

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TrinityC: Hello, Hello! You are so sweet! Thanks! I loved the idea of Legolas returning to tea with Aragorn's daughters…I had so much fun torturing him the first time. And as far as Arwen dealing with Aragorn on a daily basis, as totally wonderful as he is…how could she every once in a while not just throw up her hands and wonder what the hell she's doing in Middle Earth!

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Pie: good to see you again! Yes, I work for threats! I'm continuing, I'm continuing! I find it relatively easy to write annoying men. I guess I've had a lot of interactions with them in the past (is there another kind?). And no…Legolas clearly has no idea what he's about to get into or he would have run away (run away! run away!) immediately at Arwen's request. 

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Brailah: Okay, I will! And thanks so much!

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Estelcontar: Hi to the reviewer with the coolest name ever! I recognized you from your kind reviews of First Light of Evenstar! Thanks for coming over to the light side with me. I'm really glad that you enjoyed the story, and obviously, yep, I'm continuing! I like a surly Aragorn too, for some odd reason. I guess I just can't imagine a man who isn't at times a real brat. It'd be so much easier to tolerate from Aragorn though.

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Soul: Well, you know the old saying…Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…or a woman fed up with her whiny husband. Either way, yeah, she's pretty evil at the moment. 

You ladies (I think everyone is a lady anyhow…forgive me and let me know if not!!!!) are lovely and gracious and warm and I hope this chapter was what you hoped it would be, though I don't feel it was quite as fun as the first one, but there's good stuff coming up next, I think. At least in my head. Future chapters will likely be a bit longer too.

*Author's Note: Admittedly I think I've probably taken some medical knowledge liberties here. I don't think those in Middle Earth would have really known how sickness spread or didn't spread, but I'm giving the elves a bit of credit for knowing quite a bit about medicine, so maybe there in lies the excuse. I'm just bringing a bit of modern day remedy to Middle Earth, I think, but I hope you'll grant me that leeway, just for a few chapters.

***Help reviewers**! If you saw my reply to Starfolk's very good suggestion (which was that it felt awkward having Aragorn going back and forth from "cold" to regular speech) earlier, this will be a bit redundant, but I wanted to make sure people saw this question. Do you like the increased "cold speak" or not? I don't want to overdo it and start annoying people, but it feels weird to have him go back and forth between normal speech and not. This chapter obviously has more of him talking like he has a cold. Is it hard to understand what he's saying? Would you rather see more or less of it in future chapters? I'd appreciate any comments on this, and of course, any other issues you see. 


	3. Visiting Hour

Sneezes and Swordfights  
by Joanna

*Most of this was written at about 4 in the morning, after a serious fight between about four drunk college kids broke out right below my balcony and I went and screamed at them to try to break it up, and ended up having to call the police before they all killed each other (or messed up my car, which was parked nearby…yeah, I'm a great citizen). Needless to say, it was a little bit of an exciting night, and adrenaline flooded my veins and going back to sleep any time soon was really not an option. If the chapter has an edgy feel, that's why! I wasn't planning on having a new chapter until Monday, and this one wasn't exactly what I had planned, but oh well. Here you go.

Thanks again for reviewing. Notes to everyone again at the bottom!

Chapter Three: Visiting Hour

He was hot. 

He was cold.

The blankets were too heavy. He couldn't even tell he had any covers at all. 

He was wasting away from hunger. He hated the sight of all the food. 

He wanted to look out the window. There was a draft when the draperies were open. 

He didn't want to sleep. He was tired. 

There was so much he needed to do. No, he didn't want to work on his correspondence. 

And so went the very first afternoon of Legolas' watch, and most of the second day. 

Toward nightfall, Aragorn sat up and proclaimed that he was going to have a bit of a walk about the palace.

"No," Legolas said simply.

"No?" Aragorn asked incredulously; clearly it was something he was unused to hearing. 

"You are not to leave this room."

"This id my cidy! The crown cidy of the realmb of free med! You are tellig me thad I, de Kig," he glared when Legolas snickered at this, and repeated with great dignity, "Kig of God--" he sneezed, "Gondord, can nod walk aroud my own homb? Is thad whad you are tellig me?" 

"Well, I did not understand very much of what you just said, but no. You are not going anywhere."

"You thig you cad stob me?"

"I am quite certain of it."

"I will cald de guards. They will log you in the dugeod."

"They have been instructed that no one is to come into, or leave, these chambers, except Lady Arwen or I. They would stop you."

"I ab de Kig! They are my guards! They answer to me aload."

"Unless your very charming, and very beautiful wife speaks to them with different orders than you give. Now they are hers, bought and paid for with a smile."

"And somb said her _grandmother_ wad an elf-witch," Aragorn muttered at the very moment the door opened.

Legolas took great joy in watching how quickly Aragorn closed his mouth and at seeing the nervous sort of look in his eye as the elf-witch in question entered. 

"Arwen, we were just talking about you," Legolas said warmly and purposefully ignored the quick look Aragorn gave him to demand his allegiance and silence. 

"And what were you saying?" Arwen asked with a knowing smile as she shut the door firmly behind her. 

"Aragorn was just saying how much you reminded him of Lady Galadriel at times," Legolas smiled widely as Aragorn erupted into a fit of what Legolas suspected was convenient coughing.

Arwen came forward to sit beside her husband, placing a hand on his brow, still finding it hot to the touch, but not so hot as it had been the day before. His eyes looked a little clearer today too, now glittering as they watched Legolas with a poorly veiled threat in them.

"How is he behaving?" Arwen asked, keeping her hand on Aragorn's head but turning to Legolas.

"Unbearably. But I would have expected no less."

"He is being difficult then?" Arwen made a disapproving noise and Aragorn straightened defiantly.

"Well, yes he is. But it is nothing I cannot handle, Lady. Do not fret for him or for me."

"_He_ id siddig righd here!" Aragorn growled, waving his arms a little bit in case he'd disappeared entirely, as he once assured Frodo he could not.

Arwen turned her attention back to her husband. "How do you feel?"

"Much bedder. I ab ready to be sed free."

"No, you are not," Arwen disagreed. "But I am glad you are feeling better. So you think perhaps you will live now?"

"Nod if you leave me wid himb," Aragorn muttered and jerked his chin in Legolas' direction, an act which left him dizzy. "Sed himb to watch de childred. You cad stay wid me."

"Estel, surely you are not suggesting that I leave the children without either of us for the rest of the week! The staff cannot watch them, they may carry your illness. And poor Legolas cannot do that alone. He is unaccustomed to being around the young. You would leave him to look after three mischievous children instead of his very dear friend?"

"Yed!" Aragorn exclaimed. "He id goig to kill me!" 

"He is not going to kill you," Arwen reasoned.

"He can nod do anythig righd," Aragorn protested, glaring at Legolas who looked unaffected.

"And you said the same thing about my care for you yesterday."

"I did nod mead it. I ab sorry, Arwed. Stay wid me," Aragorn begged, reaching for her hand and holding to it tightly. "Do nod leave me here wid himb! He id a fool."

"I can still hear you," Legolas pointed out from behind Arwen, and Arwen turned to see that Legolas was looking as aggravated with the situation as the King. 

"I do nod care!" Aragorn snapped back. "You should know whad a fool you are! You have had four thousad yeard to figure id oud!"

"I am the fool? I am not the one who cannot speak without spittle flying from my lips, I am not breathing like a wild boar so that everyone else in the palace cannot find a moment's rest, and my nose is not pouring yellow water like a poisoned fountain! You weak, ailing _man_!" He said the last with contempt edged raw in his voice. 

"Stop it, both of you. It is only for a few days, and you are being unreasonable. You and Legolas surely have a lot of catching up to do still. You can plan your hunting trip," Arwen offered brightly, with just an edge of worry. She did not want Legolas to go back on his promise. Not because she thought Legolas incapable of caring for her children, but because she was quite certain she'd do harm to Aragorn if she had to spend another day as his nurse. The prospect of having time with her lovely children was so much more appealing. "What is a little illness between two friends who have been through the battles you have seen? You have stood at each others' side through worse than this!"

Aragorn and Legolas both glared at each other around her, but began looking increasingly abashed. 

"I think apologies are in order," Arwen said, looking from one to the other expectantly, as she did when Eldarion pulled Imeren's braid, or when Gliriel dirtied Imeren's favorite doll.

And she got a similar reaction as she would have from her children. Both man and elf reddened slightly in the cheeks and cast down their eyes.

"I apologize," Legolas said, looking at his boots.

"Sorryd," Aragorn mumbled, and looked over at the wall.

"Well, now, that is better, is it not? I must be getting back before the children set themselves loose upon Gondor. I'll come back tomorrow. Someone will be bringing your dinners very soon. They'll leave it outside the door." She had to pry Aragorn's fingers from about her own as she stood up.

She kissed Aragorn's forehead, then Legolas' and floated from the room as silently as she'd entered it.

"I shoud pud a bell on thad womad." Aragorn observed when she was gone.

"Elf-witch, indeed," Legolas murmured in agreement.

And with what would turn out to be a very temporary truce thus called, each fell to silence.

******

Thanks again reviewers! Looks like cold speech is here to stay…where's a good cold when you need one for research? Watch me develop one as some sort of Karma here…if the cold speech gets really good, you'll know it's happened. Of course, the pollen is so bad where I am right now I probably won't have to pretend to have a stuffy nose and watery eyes in a day or two.

I don't think the "bell" comment is mine. I think I heard it somewhere, on some movie or something, but I'm not sure, so I may have borrowed that bit. Hey, it's very, very late.

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Dragon-of-the-North: Hee. Thanks for coming back! I adore long reviews. And yeah, the part with Aragorn kissing Legolas' hand was decidedly non-slash, huh? Wonder if I scared anybody for a minute? And I'm having a real hard time keeping Legolas healthy…I keep thinking of how great it would be for him to be sick. But then again, this is his revenge for the torment he faced in Dragons or Ribbons, so there you go. I've had a hectic couple of days, but I'm definitely checking out your "Of Orcs and Elves" soon…it sounds so awesome and it's on all kinds of favorites lists!

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Kaz: Hey! Thanks for the vote of confidence on the cold speech. It seems people like it so far, so I'll try to keep it about like it was for chapter two! 

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LegyLuva: Your name made me giggle while I was typing it. Cute! The cold speech is "hered" to stay, I think.

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Lyria: You hit it on the nose. A few weeks ago it seemed several of my guy friends in my phd program had contracted a cold…but to hear them go on about it, you'd think it was the plague. Men. Unfortunately, none of them look a thing like Aragorn, so I was not very sympathetic. 

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Dot: Read your aftermath of Helms Deep story, Weary, and thought it was so good (as the review said)! And if your life is sad for reading about coughing Kings…just imagine this…conceiving of and writing about sneezing kings and disgusted elves. Sigh. Procrastination is my life.

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Snowball: Awesome suggestion about blowing his nose. When I get extremely tired of talking to myself in the cold accent, I can bring out the tissues…which I'm sure could seriously disgust Legolas. Watch for this, it will appear sooner or later, and I'll thank you in advance! 

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Trinity C: Yo! (I got tired of saying Hi, Hey, and Hello, so suddenly I think I'm a gansta…yet I'm so not). Yeah, you've got to wonder why we get such sadistic pleasure from inflicting such humiliation on these noble characters. Let Aragorn scream like a little girl, I say. And it is TOTALLY my goal to make him the worst patient in Middle Earth. And maybe to make Legolas a little like Kathy Bates in Misery…what was her name? Nurse Ratchet? 

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Starfolk: Hey there! (I'm over the gansta thing). You totally didn't open a can of worms! At least not one that didn't need to be open! Look, everyone agreed with you. You made my story better. That's what this is all about, my friend, so I owe you thanks!

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Hel: Yes, I can totally agree with Arwen's decision (obviously)…if I were a Queen, I might just have him banished from Gondor until he was feeling nicer though. 

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Lily-of-the-Shadow: yep, those colds can come in handy. They do get you out of school…and out of governing, it seems!

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Nilmandra: Well, I just thought the whole "man becomes spoiled, angry child when sick" thing had to come from somewhere. Must have been an entirely different kind of Isildur's bane. As for Legolas healing with grace and tormenting, I like it. Kathy Bates' Nurse whatever her name is meets Florence Nightingale. 

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Ola: Only send wargs if you also send Aragorn (or Legolas, I'm not picky) to save me from them. If you do send Aragorn, make sure he's healthy. I've heard he's a jerk when he's got a cold. Thanks for reviewing!

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Estelcontar: (yep, still love the name!). What's scary is I'm starting to like bratty Aragorn too. Can you see this whiny version in any story I write after this? Maybe a dangerous thing!

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Mouse: thank you so very much! I'm so glad you like it so far, and hope you'll continue to enjoy it! 

**Hyper-shark**: Yes, poor Aragorn. He's so much fun to torture. 

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Semmerie: Hey, thanks! Yes, Lord knows why this idea came to me as it did. A perverse desire to abuse both of them, I suspect. And I hadn't thought of how he would say his name, but I think you've got it! Aragorb! That made me laugh…and I didn't read the review until this morning, so it's not just punchy exhaustion!


	4. Chicken Soup and Bedtime Stories

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Sneezes and Sword Fights  
By Joanna

Chapter Four: Chicken Soup and Bedtime Stories

"Why do you ged steag and podadoes and I only ged wadery soub?" Aragorn asked when Legolas brought their dinners in on a large tray later that evening.

"Because you are far too delicate of health to eat such hardy food," Legolas offered as Aragorn screwed his face up in disgust as he peered down into the bowl of broth Legolas extended toward him.

He tried to push it away. "I do nod wad id. Share your food wid me." 

Legolas pushed Aragorn's restraining hand away and set the soup on the bedside table. "It will make you sick, and I do not believe you are so short of memory to have forgotten that. Arwen told me that when you demanded a full meal the night before last, your chambermaids spent time mopping it off the floor. And if you think I am going to do such a thing, you have come apart from your senses. Eat your soup."

He retreated, under the hot glare of his charge, to the table by the window, and trying not to look too smug about it, picked up his own fork.

"I ab nod goig to ead this. You cad tell Arwed why I died of hudgerd." Aragorn said, and crossing his arms across his chest and lifting his chin in defiance, stared at Legolas.

"Aye. Starve then. I'll tell her. Any other message you would like to leave her?" Legolas asked and shoved a particularly large, and unelfly, bite into his mouth. 

Aragorn growled something unintelligible and Legolas went on eating.

"Your soup will get cold. You must be hungry," Legolas tried after a while, when his plate was almost half-empty. Aragorn's eyes had watched each forkful rise from plate to his mouth. His look had grown increasingly dark.

"No I'b nod," Aragorn snapped.

At that moment, his stomach elected to betray him and rumbled loudly enough that Legolas wondered why the guards didn't come running from the end of the hallway.

"Nod a word!" Aragorn hissed and snatched the bowl from the table so quickly that a good bit of it sloshed over the rim and onto his hand. Despite Legolas' warning, the soup was still quite hot and with an elvish curse, Aragorn released the bowl and it shattered upon the stone floor.

Both of them were surprised into silence for a moment, staring as the broth ran away in rivers from the shards of heavy glass. 

Aragorn recovered first, slowly bringing his wrist to his mouth and licking what soup there was still there.

"I subbose you will have to ged me more soub," he shrugged. 

Clearly Aragorn was right, and setting his teeth against the words that came to mind, Legolas turned and left the King sitting up in bed and looking more cheerful than he had in some time.

And when Legolas returned after having received a royal scolding from the royal cook for being so careless with the dear king's meal (after all how was the poor king to recover if he wasn't fed properly and at timely intervals?), and pushed open the heavy door, Aragorn was sitting at the table. His bare legs and feet stuck out from his nightdress, and Legolas' now empty plate obscured his face as he licked it clean.

Aragorn had not even the grace to look abashed at having been thus caught, and lowered the gleaming plate back to the table, a smile of satisfaction blatantly beaming across his face.

"I was not finished with my dinner," Legolas snarled, annoyed enough to wish his bow was within his grasp. 

"Id wad very good," Aragorn assured him and sat back in the chair, placing his hands over his now full stomach. "You cad haf the soub if you wad it."

Legolas actually thought the King might not live to see morning for the first time since he'd taken over his care.

*

"I cad nod sleeb." 

"I care not." Legolas snapped from his makeshift cot across the room, still fuming after the loss of the better part of his dinner. "Be silent so that I may."

"I do nod feel very good," Aragorn whined. "I ade too much dinner."

"If you lose that dinner, you are cleaning it up yourself, I assure you," Legolas warned. 

"I ab nod goig to lose id." Aragorn said, insulted. "But I ab thirsdy." 

"You were well enough to get my dinner. Get your own water. And rid your nose of its obstructions. I grow very weary of listening to you speak and breathe like a dwarf." 

Aragorn obligingly brought a stiffened piece of cloth to his nose, blowing it ferociously. 

When the sound died away and his ears stopped popping painfully, he heard Legolas' unrestrained laughter.

"What is funny?" he asked, voice much clearer for the moment. 

"You sounded exactly like an orc horn just then. I was just thinking that at any moment Gimli will break through that door, axe at the ready."

"I could only hope," Aragorn responded. "Now will you get me some water?"

"What is wrong with your two legs now that was not wrong with them a few hours ago?"

"I spent all my energy. You know, Arwen would never laugh at me. She would get me my water."

"Well you should have thought of that and checked your tongue and she'd be here with you now, bringing you your cursed water. And if she _were_ still here, she would undoubtedly gladly bring you water. Laced with poison."

Aragorn growled and eventually rose to get his own water, making a point to make as many groans of discomfort and weariness as he possibly could. Legolas lay, back to him, and seemed not to notice at all.

Making his way back to the bed, Aragorn lay and looked at the ceiling for a while, waiting just until Legolas' breathing was become slowly more regular, and as the elf reached the very edge of sleep, whined loudly, "I still can nod sleeb."

Legolas drew in breath very quickly, so that it sounded almost as a hiss.

Inspired, Aragorn continued. "Arwed always sigs to me whed I can nod sleeb."

"I am not going to sing to you," Legolas assured him.

Aragorn sniffled. "You cad tell me a story."

He could see Legolas bristling in a shaft of moonlight that fell across the room from the partially opened curtains.

"All right. Here is your story. There was once, long ago, a man, a King of men, who would not grant an elf, a prince of elves, very handsome and noble, who was graciously caring for him a moment's peace. He whined for his wife, he called him foul names, he would not do as he was told, and he stole the elf's dinner. Finally, he tried the good elf too much and would not let him take his rest. And when the King finally did fall asleep, the elf bludgeoned him to death with a chair leg."

Aragorn sat in shocked silence for a moment, eyes wide. Finally, he found his voice and said in surprise. "Thad wad nod a very good story."

"Perhaps it was not so much a story as prophecy," Legolas suggested. 

"You are threadening me now? Aragorb, son of Arathord?"

"What?" Legolas asked, raising his head.

"Aragorb!" Aragorn repeated before he realized that the elf was simply playing his own game again.

Legolas let loose a bark of laughter. When at last, he quieted, Aragorn looked at the ceiling and thought about it for a few moments before announcing: 

"I shall very much enjoyd hafing you pud to death whed I ab bedder," he said at last, and went to sleep.

******

This was of course, as most things are with me, a little tongue in cheek. I do not mean to imply that chicken soup was actually a remedy in Middle Earth. 

I haven't had to do any more policing at 4 a.m., thus the pace of this chapter slowed a bit! Which is fine with me! Thanks again to everyone for reviewing! Notes to everyone below, followed by a quick advertisement, that you can fast-forward through if you are so inclined!

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Crazy/Evil: so glad I could help out! Thanks!

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Dot: Your story deserved all my comments and then some. Anyway, it seems not a far stretch at all that Arwen would outsmart them both. Art imitating life, I think. 

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Jedi-Faramir: Think your mom's available for hire? A research subject. "Say this. Now say this." Just a thought. Anyhow, I'm glad that you're still enjoying the story. 

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Dragon-of-the-North: My nocturnal friend! Yes, I've given up daylight almost entirely now, whenever possible. I hope you'll still be saying this ordinary stuff is interesting after say chapter four or five too! You really are too sweet with all your comments. And yes, I noticed your story on two or three favorites lists that I just happened to look at, no telling how many more it's on! I think it's on someone's recommended fiction page too!

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Pie: No, no, no. You can't speak out loud to the computer UNLESS you live alone, see. I mean, just the dog would be okay, but someone's eventually going to lock you up if you're laughing at the computer and declaring that you are "de kig." It's really a bad idea. I should put a warning on this story. All my reviewers will be taken away. And yes, I think this is a definite slight on the elf's dignity, he's had to lower himself abuse as a sick maid. I am enjoying doing it to him.

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Mouse: I'm glad you're still with me! You know, I just figure after so long of knowing a person, he's going to be able to get on your nerves pretty badly. 

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tapetum lucidum: Just tell your husband it's left over side effects from his medicine and that he's imagining things! He'll never know. And yes, please do use the line. It works for colds as well as for people who have had dental work, or that are drunk come to think of it. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to get Legolas sick…and of course I'm evil enough to do it in a second. But I just don't know how I feel giving an immortal elf who cannot get sick a cold. I'd have to have a really plausible excuse for it, and I haven't thought one up yet. But yes, except for that reason, I would absolutely do it! MWAH HA HA.

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TrinityC: LOL. Glad to see the idea of Legolas as Kathy B. is appealing. You know, if no one else read your last review and my comment to the one before that, that sentence will sound very, very strange. Arwen, I'm convinced, can handle anything or anyone. She rocks. I want to be just like her when I grow up. 

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My Own: I am thinking of all sorts of revenge on Arwen. You're right…she's had a very, very easy time of it, hasn't she? I'm glad the misunderstanding with your lab demonstrator got cleared up. It might be good to keep him as an ally to keep you from blowing things up! (Or maybe you are better at chemistry than I was). 

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Jebb: I'm very glad that this made you smile. And I think it's unanimous that we all agree men are very bad sick people. Or very bad, sick people. LOL. However you care to punctuate that is fine.

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Soul: Legolas is evil. Arwen is evil. I think that yes, all elves are evil. I mean, after so long of living around Middle Earth, you would think a few of them had to turn dark, right?

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Mari: What a sweet review! Thanks! No, you're right, the cold talk is not perfectly accurate. It gives me fits…when I finally do think I get it right, it's unrecognizable what he's just said! But I am glad that you're enjoying it! And yes. Arwen has done quite a nice job of making things nice for herself and not so much so for everyone else. As I said earlier, I admire that elf-witch.

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Estelcontar: Just tell all your friends that you're going to start going by that. The ones that haven't read Lord of the Rings should have interesting reactions. I'm glad the constant cold speech isn't getting on anyone's nerves too badly (except mine! Not really). I think it is definitely worse when men think they are dying. At least when they pretend they aren't sick they are out of your hair. Then again, they usually get even more sick that way, and in no time at all, they're whining. You know, it's really no wonder I DON'T have any male reviewers for this story.

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Platinum Rose Lady: Disclaimer: The writer will not be responsible for any injury incurred when reader falls on the floor, though it pleases her greatly to hear about it! Your review had me laughing out loud at my computer! You are so very kind!

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Artemis: Hey! Maybe I can use you for research instead of Jedi-Faramir's mom! You'll have to keep the "code" for a few more weeks. Your cold speech was much more accurate than mine! I hope you feel better though…just remember what you sound like in case I have questions!

I thought about what you said about Arwen, but I still think she isn't exactly human since she's given up her immortality. After all, she's going to live for much, much longer than Aragorn or any other human still. She has to live "until the years of her life are utterly spent." I just don't think sickness would interfere with that, so I'm keeping her elfly in that regard.

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And now, a message brought to you by your sponsor: **Me**. When you grow tired of all this lighthearted nonsense, I do have a few angsty stories to fulfill your need of sorrow and to sufficiently depress you, I think. 

"When Day Comes Down," "And Moon Rides High," and "The Answer is in Dawn" is a little trilogy I wrote about the aftermath of Helm's Deep from the perspectives of Aragorn, Legolas, and Eowyn. It's some pretty heavy stuff, admittedly, but I'm proud of it. It's very Aragorn/Legolas centric, with some Arwen, if you like stories about these guys. Eowyn gets thrown in there too. I do like Eowyn, though I think Aragorn made the correct decision, of course. If you are so inclined, and not enthusiastic about getting back to work, school, etc., feel free to check those three stories out by visiting my author page.


	5. House Call

*Hey! "Dragons or Ribbons" and this story have both been adopted and found a wonderful home at the Tower of Ecthelion web site, run by Maggie and Erin. If you haven't been there yet, it is an amazingly beautiful site with all kinds of amazing LOTR fan fiction (that quite frankly I'm not sure these stories deserve to stand with!). The graphic design for the site, as well as for all the stories posted there is absolutely amazing. 

You have GOT to go see the title graphic for "Dragons or Ribbons" (made by Erin, I am pretty sure with input from Maggie) especially. It is guaranteed to make you laugh. I've considered setting it as my wallpaper it's so funny. The "Sneezes and Sword Fights" one is great too. And browse while you're there…you won't believe all the fantastic stories they have collected. There I go advertising again…but it's worth the visit! 

Okay, so I figured out after posting this once that FF.net doesn't let you post web addresses. If you want to get to the site, it'll be a little complicated but totally worth it. Go to my "favorite authors" page, and click on "M. N. Theis." Then, click on her homepage link. That'll get you there. Read her stories too. She rocks. 

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Chapter Five: House Call

"I do nod need the healerd!" Aragorn insisted, pausing as he hacked into his hands. "He alreddy camb to see be on the firsd day I wad sig. He said to restd. I ab restig!" 

Arwen sighed deeply as she stood in the doorway of the sickroom, and did not miss the long suffering look Legolas gave her at her arrival.

"Well, he is here and he has taken time to make the trip, and you must see him," Arwen insisted, and walked into the room to stand at the foot of the bed.

"I will decide who I wad to seed! I ab nod a child!" Aragorn wailed. 

"Well, that is good to hear as it means now you have leave to stop behaving like one. It grows wearisome." Arwen murmured, and Legolas snickered. From well behind her.

"I do nod like healerds!" Aragorn protested. 

"_You_ are a healer," Legolas reminded him. 

"Mustd he still be hered?" Aragorn muttered. "Id there somethig else he could do? Go loog afder the childred?"

"Gimli is with the children," Arwen said quickly, and the hope that had flared up in Legolas' eyes sputtered out and he gave an audible sigh. He actually envied a dwarf. It was not a good indication of the state of his life at the moment.

"I miss by childred," Aragorn said, ignoring her. "How much longerd do I haf to stay here aload?"

"The healer will likely answer that," Arwen reasoned. "As soon as you have seen him. Which you _will _do."

Aragorn grumbled and pulled himself up on the sheets, squaring his shoulders and transforming himself from sullen child to dignified king for perhaps the very first time in three days. 

"Sed himb to me," Aragorn commanded, as if it had been his idea. Arwen nodded to Legolas to fetch the healer waiting in the hallway.

The Warden of the House of Healing was the same man who had tended both Eowyn and Faramir as the Captains of the West rode to the last battle. He had been aged then; now he was quite ancient and he shuffled slowly into the room at the side of the elf, who adjusted his strides to match. 

"My Lord, King Elfstone," he greeted Aragorn in his raspy voice as he came to the bedside and bowed, though his body was bent enough. "The city anxiously awaits your recovery."

"As do we all," Legolas muttered, with feeling, and then looked surprised when Aragorn gave him a quick, hot glare, as if he had not realized he spoke the words aloud.

"I ab much bedder," Aragorn assured the Warden and reached to take the hands the healer extended toward him in welcome. "I thig I cad go oud now."

"Nay, nay," said the Warden as he lay his hands-his very, very cold hands-against Aragorn's cheeks and forehead. "There is still a fire in your blood. You must wait until it burns itself out."

"How log will thad tag?" Aragorn asked impatiently.

"I would say you will be ready to leave your chambers in three or four days." 

Aragorn ignored Legolas' small gasp of dismay. "I can nod leave the cidy withoud a Kig for thad log!"

"Estel, you forget. You had planned a hunting trip. Your advisors were already prepared to care for the city until the middle of next week," Arwen reminded him sweetly, and because the Warden was a man of genteel sensibilities, Aragorn did not respond immediately.

"Now then, lean forward a bit. I would be sure that there is no danger to your lungs or that your breathing is not impaired," the Warden smiled encouragingly and put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder as if he had the strength to pull him forward. 

The Warden stepped behind Aragorn. "Let me know if this hurts."

Immediately Aragorn tensed and waited and felt a sharp pinching pain in his left shoulder blade.

"Thad hurds!" Aragorn gasped.

"My Lord. I have not done anything yet," the Warden murmured, "are you injured?"

"Only in his head," Legolas assured the Warden and watched Aragorn turn pink with embarrassment.

"Id wad just becausd I haf nod been permidded to move. I ab sore," he defended himself.

He did not look at Arwen or Legolas' suppressed smiles as the Warden gently probed his upper back and then listened to his breathing for long minutes. 

"You are much better," the healer pronounced at last and Aragorn perked up.

"I ab bedder? I cad go now?"

"No, no. You are not that much better. You are still weakened and fevered." 

"I ab weag becausd Legolad id starvig me! I ab fevered becausd he keebs id roastig in hered!"

"You had more to eat than I for dinner last night!" Legolas reminded him sharply. "And if I dare to try to steal a breath of fresh air, you begin to wail that you will catch death from cold."

Arwen cleared her throat ever so lightly, as if to remind Legolas and Aragorn that there were others in the room. The Warden looked shocked by the exchange between King and Prince.

Forcing a smile that Arwen knew better as a clenching of teeth, Aragorn waved a hand. "Id is no madder. My friend id very kid to ted to me in this hourd." 

Rolling his eyes, Legolas nonetheless responded dutifully. "And it is my honor to be of service to the King." His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked from Aragorn to the healer. "But is there nothing you have, no tonic, that might speed his recovery? I would have the King back upon his feet and feeling fit as soon as possible."

"Yes, of course. I have brought medicine for the King. You must drink this in the morning after you eat and at night before you sleep, King Elfstone. I believe it will speed your recovery."

"Whad is id?" Aragorn asked doubtfully as the healer pulled a vial from his bag and set it on the table at Aragorn's side.

"Ground roots and herbs that may help you breathe easier and that may also lower your fever. In addition, you must continue to take your rest."

"Ad to ead, righd?" Aragorn pressed, giving Legolas a dark look.

"You should eat, of course, but eat lightly. Your stomach will be delicate. Soup or broth, a bit of bread, perhaps some dried fruit if you have any in your winter stores…" the Warden hesitated at the shadow that passed across the King's face. "My Lord? Is there anything wrong?"

"Nay," Aragorn muttered and sneezed. "_Nothig_."

"I will take my leave then," the Warden said and looking uncertainly from Aragorn to Legolas, as if he sensed the tension in the air and wished he didn't, began moving from the room. "I will come again in three days, unless you send for me before."

"Thank you so very much," Arwen told the man, coming forward to take his arm and smile down at him brightly enough to make the long, halting walk through the palace worth his while. Before she led him out of the door she threw both Legolas and Aragorn a scathing look and both fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly aware of the scolding they would later receive for their bad behavior.

When the door closed, Legolas motioned to Aragorn's bedside table. "Drink the tonic. Hurry. Perhaps it will make you better. Perhaps you should drink all of it."

"Id is so dice to know thad you are so concered for by recovery," Aragorn told Legolas, raising an eyebrow as he reached for the vile of blackish liquid. He titled it, noted with disgust how it coated the glass bottle as it rolled up the sides. 

"Id loogs like blood," he observed and uncapped it. Even through his plugged nose, the sharp, acrid smell of the tonic reached him and his already watery eyes stung anew. Quickly he put the cork back in the top.

"Thad id foul! I will nod drig id!" 

Legolas looked on in dismay, as if all his hopes in the world rested in the little glass vile. 

"Oh, but you will drink it," the elf assured him. "You will drink it all and you will get better and we will both get out of this forsaken room sooner than three days hence!"

And for the first time in quite awhile, it seemed that the fair prince had the look of an assassin about him and Aragorn eyed his medicine doubtfully and hoped that Arwen came back very soon.

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I am aware that this chapter wasn't so hot. I was not able to bring the funny. However, to make up for it, I will try very hard to inflict much torture on both man and elf as Aragorn must literally take his own medicine in the next chapter.

Your reviews totally make me laugh more than this story does. I've got the better end of this deal!

Now, for the important part:

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TrinityC: Yes…he's a prophet too. This elf has it all. Sigh. I still haven't decided if I will let him murder Aragorn just yet. Maybe if I get really, really tired of cold speak?

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Whitestar: Thank you so much! I love it that this actually is making some people laugh. LOVE IT! Before Dragons or Ribbons I never tried writing anything comical, unless it was just a bit in an overall dramatic story. This is totally new for me and it's surprising how rewarding people like you have made it for me. 

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Laura: LOL. Hee. I kind of liked the Kig thing too. I'll try to keep him saying it! 

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Jambaby: Tell you what…if Legolas refrains from killing the Kig (See that Laura, I said it again), you can give him a medal! Deal?

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Dragon-of-the-North: Well, no…the truce, not so much a long term thing at all. It was nice while it lasted, I'm sure, in the blank air space between chapters 3 and 4. I have decided that evil Legolas and childish Aragorn are the most fun pair to write EVER. Everyone should do it. And I wish I knew a real elvish curse…for my own everyday life! It would come in handy.   
  
Putting to death the elf-lord of Ithilien, the son of a reigning sovereign?! Think of the diplomatic consequences...Ah, but it opens it up for a grand sequel. The war between Gondor and the elf realms. And some marital tension too, I would guess. But who would care for Aragorn when he's sick?

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Mouse: You know, I think Legolas would like the idea of spiking the tea with something to make Aragorn sleep…forever! Men. Can't live with them, but they can fix things.

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Joanna: (a fine name!) Don't worry. When the snot and coughing stops, he'll be back to his old sexy self. I could never keep him from that forever!

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Dot: Okay, I already told Pie this, but you should control the laughter if you have roommates, family, etc. I don't want you people to be hauled off! I'm enjoying the reviews too much! And yes, I feel the level of hostility growing exponentially as well. There's nothing I can do to stop it at this point, I'm afraid. 

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Suze: Hi there! You are certainly forgiven for not reviewing until you found the story. No one else out there is though! :-D You were laughing so hard you couldn't see the screen! Really? Then I'm going to forget angst! I mean, I'm easily amused, so it's nice to know there are others out there. Anyone want to start a club with me? 

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Pie: They are SO coming to get you now, you know. Friends, family…they all know you've lost it. I cracked up at your Gimli realizing they'll be hunting each other comment. LOL! What did you give Legolas a bat for! Now the whole palace is going to be taken out! Great. Wish me luck at prying it out of his hands before the start of the next chapter and in explaining why Aragorn has a bit ole dent in his head.

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Teresa: I never thought cold speak would go over like it has! I think everyone should write a story in cold speak now. Just don't tell anyone what it is, see what reviewers say. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. 

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Soul: It has been my experience that all men (and elves) when it comes down to it, still have the mind of an eight year old. Hee. I'm not a man hater! You'd think so from my comments to these reviews though, wouldn't you? 

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Mari: Well, I'm an idiot. The sad thing is, it's not like I just read the reviews once. I read them when they come in, then again when I respond to them (and sometimes in between when I need a little laugh or pick me up), and I STILL didn't read that sentence right. Too many words going on in my head all the time with all the reading I do for class or something. Or I'm just an idiot, which was my first (and most probable) conclusion! Thanks! Of course I think you (I?) had it right in my mind….the cold speak isn't always so great! And you are right, the dinner stealing was entirely uncalled for. You can certainly understand Legolas' murderous intentions as a result though. Alas. He is a still a saint in my eyes.

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Platinum-Rose-Lady: **snort** **quick look around to see if anyone heard the unladylike sound** **memory that I live with a dog who is bored with me and is sleeping on my pillow as if she belongs there** You crack me up every time. And aren't you a forward thinking individual with the pillows? I'm so impressed. And as far as Aragorn and Whiny…if anyone can write whiny men, that would be me. There I go with the man bashing again. Wow. I need to devote some time to this issue.

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Artemis: Stop it with the cold talk already! You're making me jealous because you are clearly better at it than I am! Of course if the result is having to deal with a cold (unless Legolas is coming to look after me or unless I get to be Aragorn's bed--er, um--_room_mate) maybe I'm okay with average cold speak. Eddyway…I think I tried to cold speak that one several times and couldn't get it right and there it is, just taunting me in your review, hope you feel better! 

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LegyLuva: I'm glad you're still liking it. And the story. Wasn't sure how that level of violence would go over…clearly everyone here has dealt with a whiny older brat with a snotty nose before and can sympathize. 

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Arwen Undomiel: Thanks so much! Hee. Everyone has a cold but me, the one who needs one for research (no, no, no, **throws salt over shoulder, turns around and spits to ward off any cold bug that heard that**). I hope you still like the story after this chapter!

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Michelle Frodo: Welcome to the dark side…i.e. Legolas/Aragorn fiction! That LegyLuva…she doesn't sound much more helpful than Legolas! Maybe you should find a way to eat her dinner one of these days. I hope you feel better and I'm very glad you liked the story! (Just tell her you ARE the Kig…or the Queed)

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Estelcontar: Okay, so the Aragorb was actually something that one of the other reviewers left in a review (meant to say thanks Semmerie!)…other than that, my guess is that I think it up out of pure insanity. I mean, really. Who else could amuse themselves for hours sitting in front of the computer and acting like she has a cold, or driving around town thinking of what to do to Aragorb next…for FUN? 


	6. In Which the Kig Takes His Own Medicine

Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

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Chapter Six: In Which The Kig Takes His Own Medicine

"Perhaps it does not taste so bad as it smells," Legolas reasoned as he and Aragorn squared off after the healer and Arwen had gone. Aragorn had pushed the medicine firmly away from him and settled back on the sheets. Legolas stood at the foot of his great bed, arms crossed.

"You are welcob to try id," Aragorn invited, waving a hand toward the nightstand. "I will tag your word for id."

"It is for your own good, Aragorn. The healer said you must take it."

"I ab a healerd. I say I do nod tag id." 

"Yes, well I am in charge of your recovery. And I must sincerely insist that you do."

Aragorn scowled. "I ab weary of this discussiod. Id is over."

"Nay. It is not. You have only one choice in this matter. You will take the medicine. The choice you do have is how."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he sat up a little taller in the bed. "Ad how do you plad to make me tag the medicined?"

"You do not wish to know. Take it on your own, and save yourself the discovery," Legolas warned.

Aragorn snorted with mirth, choked suddenly, and coughed hard for several moments. 

It was the opening the elf was looking for and he lunged as the King doubled over. Aragorn, upon realizing what was happening, emitted a sound that could only be called a shriek, and raised his hands to defend himself too late. 

Though lighter of weight, Legolas believed he had right upon his side, and threw himself across the blankets, and the King under them, pinning Aragorn's thrashing legs with ease. His intent was not to hurt Aragorn, but as a well-driven fist glanced off his jawbone, Legolas reconsidered. 

Aragorn moved as one gone berserk, fighting his friend as furiously as he'd ever fought any orc of Mordor. He heard, from his plugged ears, a fierce growling sound, and realized momentarily that it came from his own throat. 

When Legolas caught one of his wrists hard, Aragorn brought the other hand scraping across the elf's cheek, clawing at his fair skin with blunt nails and feeling a rush of satisfaction as he watched blood well in four red lines there.

"Enough!" Legolas shouted at last, narrowly missing a pass at his eyes by Aragorn's fingernails, and brought his elbow hard--perhaps harder than was necessary, Legolas would later decide, and then in the same moment decide he did not care--into Aragorn's ribs.

The breath exploded from Aragorn's lungs in an undignified _ooooof!_ and stunned for a moment, Aragorn lay still and tried to draw air, unsuccessfully.

Unconcerned at the sound of Aragorn's wheezing attempts to breathe, Legolas took his opponents' stillness as an advantage and captured Aragorn's other wrist, holding onto it tightly. By the time Aragorn regained his breath, Legolas had him effectively pinned.

Eyes flashing fire, Aragorn hissed, "You bedder led be go now! I will cald the guards!"

"If you try, I shall make you regret that as well," Legolas warned, and yet was not in the least surprised when Aragorn thrashed his head back against the pillows and bellowed for his guards.

Not sure whether they would come or not, but guessing that they might, Legolas knew he had very little time.

Shifting so that he grasped both of Aragorn's wrists in one hand, and using his body to pin them as best he could, Legolas reached for the vial. He unplugged it with his teeth and nearly gagged when a small drop of the medicine clinging to the cork dropped upon his lips. 

It was wicked stuff indeed. Which pleased him immensely as he contemplated the stinging scratches on his face.

Aragorn very firmly closed his mouth; Legolas could hear his teeth grinding together, could see the tense line of his jaw. Spitting out the cork, and instead holding the opened bottle carefully in his teeth, Legolas used his free hand to pinch the King's nose hard. 

Legolas thought the sheer indignity of it might kill Aragorn, and smiled grimly into the King's eyes, which very, very clearly communicated the desire to end Legolas' stay on Middle Earth.

For several moments, he thought Aragorn might actually allow himself to suffocate before he would suffer himself to open his mouth, but eventually, just as he was turning alarming shades of crimson, Aragorn's mouth opened wide as he gasped for air. 

Moving with elven speed, Legolas released Aragorn's slimy nose, took the vial, and poured a goodly amount of the medicine into his opened mouth.

With a choking noise of fury, Aragorn used all the strength left in his body, and moved with Ranger-speed, freeing his arms, and snatching the medicine from the elf.

At that same moment, the horrid taste of the liquid fully registered, and Aragorn spewed it directly into Legolas' face. 

If he lived the immortal life of the elves, Aragorn would never, ever forget the shocked look on his face as the elf reared back, covered with dripping black liquid, sputtering and wiping frantically at it with his hands and sleeves. He retreated from the bed, back to the foot of it, and presumably out of range of any other projectile Aragorn might launch at him, looking utterly demoralized.

Aragorn, with a defiant look at Legolas, hurled the medicine across the room. The little bottle shattered against the stone wall by the window and the remaining liquid oozed down the wall with unnatural slowness.

The look that quickly replaced Legolas' shock was one of such wrath that Aragorn considered himself very fortunate that his guards chose that moment to open his door.

"My Lord?" one of them asked, looking in confusion to the King, who had black liquid dripping from his beard, to the elf who had black liquid dripping from eyebrows, cheeks, and chin, to the wall, which was covered in the medicine as well. "Is there something you needed?"

"Kill himb," Aragorn announced and gestured weakly at Legolas, spent after his exertion.

"My Lord?" the guard repeated, unsure of himself, though it did seem as if the elf posed a threat to his sovereign at the moment, standing there bristling with rage, a purple bruise welling along his jaw and his cheek scratched.

"You heard be. Kill himb! Tag himb away!" Aragorn ordered, and was highly upset when neither guard drew his sword.

"Oh for the love of the Valar," Arwen murmured hopelessly as she stepped into the room and surveyed it. Her arrival was much to the relief of the two guards, who recognized true authority when they saw it. She looked first at Aragorn, then at Legolas, and with a heavy sigh, told the guards, "that will be all."

Aragorn and Legolas waited as the guards exited. They both looked expectantly at Arwen as soon as they were alone, but she said nothing as she glanced from one to the other.

At last, without a word, she turned and walked from the room.

It was not until a moment later that her high, clear laughter echoed down the stone hallway. 

Legolas, if possible, looked even more furious. 

Aragorn, knowing retaliation would come swiftly and severely, understood that he could never sleep again.

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*Sorry this update was a bit longer in coming than the others. Just finished one of my monster papers and gave a presentation on it today. That's a good feeling to have it over with. Maybe this semester will end after all. 

Ah, but I digress. To you guys, whom I adore, here you go:

Jambaby: You know, I guess in this instance even modern medicine wouldn't have helped Aragorn…unless they just gave him a big old shot…and wow…that would be something worth seeing if he reacts this way to Nyquil. And after this chapter, Legolas definitely needs a vacation…my guess is now you're ready to send him to Fiji.

Mouse: Ah, I can think of no higher praise than to be called evil. Hee hee. And if you thought Legolas was capable of spiking his tea before…my guess is now you fear greater damage will be inflicted.

Semmerie: Your Aragorb line is one of my favorite pieces of cold speak in the story! Making Aragorb fall out of the window, after this chapter, might be a very real possibility. Except when I say making Aragorn _fall_ out a window, I mean, making Aragorn get thrown out a window. I suspect his health is in more danger now than it has been yet. Thanks! More sugar highs please! They make for fun reviews!

Maggie: My favorite web site runner! I am seriously (for once, I'm being serious) so honored by what you said about the story. I just…well, wow. You're awesome, you know it? As far as Legolas discussing Arwen's control over the guards…I think after this chapter he's just realizing how thoroughly he's been duped. Hee. Which is so much fun for me.

Jebb: So…um…is this what you expected to happen next or no?

Mari: Ah, the healer. I liked him too. Clearly the only one in the story with any class at all, except supreme Arwen, who rules all. I'm glad you thought Aragorn's reaction to the healer was convincing…the question I have is what about his reaction to Legolas' administration of the last hope…the medicine? I may have pushed it a little far this time! However, Legolas' motto as you see it "You'll get better if I have to kill you," is exactly it. That inspired this whole chapter…and will continue to inspire the next!

Trinity C: Well, as I said, Aragorn's health may be taking a turn for the worse very soon. And he deserves it, I think. But yes, I'm totally amused by this story. Mainly because you all crack me up with the reviews afterwards. But this chapter, the thought of it, did make me laugh as I was writing it. I don't know why. It's late, I'm delirious (as usual). 

LegyLuva: Well, I'm glad Michelle Frodo is better, although I'm sure it's no fun to tease her about being the Kig anymore because that would just be strange. Maybe another friend will come down with a cold and you can start all over again. With allergy season here, you may be in luck! Thanks!

Artemis AKA Samantha: PSHAW! (Mari said that in her review and I've been saying it out loud since I responded to her). I'm not a better writer. I just happen to have had an idea that is so far out there that people will go along with me for awhile! Glad the cold is gone…kind of. What if I need research?

Dot: LOL. Drafty castles. That's it! Or murderous elves. One way or the other, I'll try to keep him in bed a little longer. Hmm. Whenever I considered keeping Aragorn in bed in the past, it usually had nothing to do with colds. Go figure.

Trustingfriendship: DUDE! Thanks for the vote of confidence. Hope you'll like this one as well!

Whitestar: LOL. Well, could you have been any more right in your review? Are you a prophet or what? I'm impressed. Nay, nay. He didn't like the medicine.

Wellduh: Hmm. SARS in Middle Earth. Hadn't thought of it like that before! I think an overdose is the least of Aragorn's worries at this point…hee.

Pie: yes. They are so coming to get you. Any day. I'm convinced of it. I'll miss you, my friend. And wow. You too seem to have psychic ability for real! Your prediction for this chapter came true. Any new predictions for chapter seven, oh great one? 

Hyper__shark: Thanks! And yeah, Legolas rocks! And so does Aragorn…and Arwen, and Frodo…and wait. I should stop this now.

EarthFaery/Tessa: Um..eck. Sorry. If you don't like it when characters fight, this could be a really bad new chapter for you. I think I got as close as I'm going to get to slash in this chapter though, so maybe that'll help? 

Jedi-Faramir: Where is your maybe/maybe not sick elf, bedtime story posted? I would totally love to read it! Sorry you got a little choked up there with your evil MWAH HA HA laugh. I was amused.

Sami: Good suggestion! I actually learned the "b" trick for Artemis, who also had a cold. I use it sometimes, but then others I think it gets confusing what he's saying so I let him have his "m's" back. 

Kaz: Well, if you like the torture of these two, my guess is this chapter was fulfilling! More is on the way, girl scout's honor.

***Okay, that's it until next time! If this chapter and review replies are a bit strange it's because most of the blood has abandoned my caffeine stream. Not good for a girl who has an early class tomorrow. 


	7. Blood Letting

Sneezes and Sword Fights  
by Joanna

Chapter Seven: Blood Letting

The elf had left the room some time ago, presumably to clean the slimy black liquid from himself, leaving Aragorn to his own devices.

After Legolas had gone, Aragorn dashed for the door in an unsteady line, certain that he must escape before his friend returned. Anticipating this, (curse him, Aragorn hissed aloud) he discovered Legolas had made certain the door had been barred from the outside. He could not get out. 

Momentary panic and rage constricted his chest. He coughed hard.

He'd felt this way before, he realized, and slowly padded back to the bed, considering. Completely trapped and unable to do anything but wait for the enemy to come.

Ah yes. In Moria. He shivered suddenly and climbed back under his blanket, quite exhausted after his exciting morning. Moria. Yes. They had defeated the Goblins there. And the cave troll. 

Surely he could master one furious elf. Surely Legolas had learned his lesson after trying to force the medicine down his gullet once. And even if he had not, the medicine was still pooled on the floor amidst shards of glass. 

Aragorn supposed he would just have to wait and be ready for any counter strike that might come. 

He continued to wait. And wait some more. It seemed that hours had passed, but he had no real concept of time in his prison, so he could not be certain. He was certain, however, that not even the vain elf prince would take so long to merely wash medicine from his face. Legolas was purposefully staying away until he thought Aragorn would be asleep and unsuspecting.

Thus, he needed to stay awake. He must. For the elf was cunning, and silent. He would not hear him slip through the door if he dozed for just a moment. 

Yet, he was very sleepy. Feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and watching the room shrink to a narrower and narrower slit of light, Aragorn knew that he must have swallowed more of the medicine than he originally thought. Aragorn also knew that Legolas must have realized this as well. 

He was not going to last. Trying hard to think of what to do through the growing fuzziness of his mind, Aragorn decided he had but one option. He must set a trap for the elf.

Getting up again, he dragged a chair toward the door and propped it against it on two legs, panting laboriously when it was done. 

When Legolas pushed the door from the other side, the chair would topple over and Aragorn was confident he would awaken when the heavy wood of it crashed upon the stone floor.

"Try to ged passed thad, elf!" Aragorn dared, out loud to no one at all. Hearing the sound of his own voice, he made a determined face and announced, "I ab the _Kig_!" Sighing, he shook his head. It was no use. He still couldn't say it with any dignity at all.

No matter. Legolas would know well enough who the King was when he found himself outsmarted by the him. 

Smiling at his own cleverness, Aragorn again climbed into bed, chuckled, and lay down his head. He was soundly asleep in moments. 

*

Legolas had admittedly lost the first battle, but he did not intend to lose the next, he determined as he walked down the deserted wing of the palace, past the wary guards, and back toward Aragorn's chamber. 

He had made the mistake of thinking the Elessar would fight honorably. The laws of war and conflict had been thrown aside, though. He understood that now. There was no mercy in this game any longer. No honor remained. Only devilry. 

He paused outside the door, listening carefully for any sound of his charge. The room seemed suspiciously quiet and Legolas furrowed his brow. He wouldn't put it past Estel to be standing at the doorframe with one of the large floral vases his wife was fond of, waiting to crack it over his head. He must be careful, Legolas realized. 

Even an ill Elessar was a worthy foe. With a self-depreciating shake of his head, Legolas brought his fingertips up to touch the four gashes on his cheek. A worthy foe indeed. He'd forgotten that before. He wouldn't do so again.

Before he unbarred the door, he reached into his pocket and his fingers touched the cool glass of the new medicine vial. The old Warden had been most disapproving when he'd requested more medicine and had clearly blamed Legolas, though Legolas told him Aragorn had dropped the tonic. Clearly, the Warden did not believe his King could do any such thing, and so Legolas had been scolded for his carelessness.

Legolas wondered what the old man would have thought if he'd seen Aragorn hurl the glass at the wall. 

After unbarring the door with painful slowness, Legolas turned the knob and pushed at the door, feeling the slightest resistance as he did so. 

Had Estel tried to block his return? Legolas wondered, and pushed a little further, until his arm could fit through the door. A roaring snore rolled into the hallway and Legolas' smile stretched the scratches on his cheek. 

It was just as he'd hoped.

Reaching his arm into the door, he groped for whatever it was blocking his entry, and caught the teetering chair before it fell. 

"Is that all you can muster?" Legolas whispered aloud, his voice barely more than a breath upon the air as he lifted the chair out of the way and entered the room.

The King did not stir, except to mutter something and then fall back into his laborious breathing patterns. There was quite a sweet smile on Aragorn's face, a satisfied smile. 

It was almost a shame that Legolas planned on disturbing him in the most gruesome manner he could imagine.

*

He crept slowly, though he could have marched in to trumpets, for the King slept soundly. It was to his benefit that the King was burrowed far under many blankets. Legolas set the tonic on the nightstand and tucked those blankets under the mattress very tightly. As he was moving to tuck the other side in, Aragorn stirred and Legolas saw his eyes flutter.

Legolas dove for the floor, pressing himself hard into the stone at the foot of the bed and holding his breath. If Aragorn saw the medicine on the nightstand, he'd surely send it flying to join the other. Legolas did not want to know what the Healer would say if he should appear in his doorway again.

Aragorn started, opened his eyes, and listened for a moment, unsure of what had awakened him. Silence. No. He hadn't heard the chair fall. He smiled again, closed his eyes, and almost instantly began to snore.

Legolas pulled himself by his elbows around the other side of the bed, lying on the floor as he shoved the blankets under the mattress on that side. Not wanting to risk being seen, and since no one was awake to witness this undignified posture, he crawled in a similar manner, upon his belly, back around to the other side of the bed.

Once laying below Aragorn's side of the bed, he snatched the vile from the table top and brought it down to his level to uncork it. He would have to be fast about it. There was no point in waiting for the right moment. It was now or not at all.

Popping up from the floor, Legolas was glad to see that Aragorn's mouth was slack and open as he was completely unable to breathe through his nose. In one motion, Legolas again turned the bottle up and emptied most of it into Aragorn's open mouth. Before the King was even fully aware of what had happened, Legolas had put the vial aside, grabbed a fist full of Aragorn's hair in one hand, and holding his head still, shoved his mouth closed with the other, and held it that way with brute force.

Making strangling sounds of fury, Aragorn struggled, but the blankets effectively pinned him like a turtle on its back, and Legolas had quite a grip on his head, even as he tried to spew the medicine again.

"Swallow it!" Legolas commanded. "I'm not letting go until you do, this time!"

Aragorn thought he'd die first, but the taste of the medicine in his mouth was so foul that he was gagging and at last he reasoned that it couldn't be any worse to have it done with. And afterwards, he could have his revenge. For now, the elf had won.

He swallowed, gagged, and nearly lost the medicine from the pits of his stomach, but Legolas was still there, shoving his mouth closed all over again when he wretched, and by sheer will alone, he kept the medicine in his churning stomach.

When at last it seemed as if the medicine might stay put, Legolas released Aragorn and grabbed the vial, backing rapidly away from the bed and placing it on a table across the room.

"There, that wasn't so bad was it?" He asked in an easy voice.

There was nothing easy about Aragorn now though. The flush of the fever had drained away and he'd gone stark white with rage. He was fighting the blankets furiously, and Legolas knew they would not hold for long.

"Led be loose!" Aragorn demanded.

"Not until you give me your word that you will act in a gentlemanly manner." Legolas shook his head.

"I ab goig to kill you!"

"Ah, well then, I'll hurry over to release you right away," Legolas returned dryly.

Aragorn struggled, but Legolas had tucked in the blankets amazingly well and at last he was forced to give up and lay back, struggling to breathe and still gagging at the taste in his mouth.

"When you have had time to think about this, and realize I have only your good health in my intentions, I will release you," Legolas murmured soothingly, and retreated to the table beside the medicine, moving the chair Aragorn had set as a trap from beside the door, and sitting upon it, which only made Aragorn look more furious. Legolas pulled a book from a shelf behind him, and propping his heels upon the table, began to read.

He could feel Aragorn's glare upon him for quite some time, but he did not glance up. When half an hour had passed, Aragorn finally sighed. "All righd. You wid. Led me go now so I cad drig somb wader?"

Legolas nodded and quickly came toward Aragorn, studying him carefully. Aragorn's eyes were clearer, his color back to unhealthy, feverish red, and his mouth set in a resigned and defeated line.

Satisfied, Legolas leaned down and pulled the covers from under the mattress on the opposite side of the bed.

Aragorn lunged for his throat.

***To Be Continued…

Ah the cliffhanger. I think I'll just do away with one or the other at the opening of the next chapter. 

Anyway, onward and upward. To you gals…these may be a little shorter than normal, but I'll make up for it on the next go round, I promise! I really want to post this tonight, but I am totally exhausted. The next two weeks are hell weeks here. I'll update as often as possible, but probably only a chapter a week, realistically:

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Mouse: Rock on! I've graduated to Wicked now! I'm so proud.

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Jebb: okay, wow. I didn't even KNOW people actually could function at the hour of 7 a.m…much less laugh. I must explore for myself, learn about this strange phenomena called "morning."

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Whitestar: Cat fight is EXACTLY what I was going for. I mean, there was spitting, hissing, and clawing. The author assumes no responsibility for any lung damage inflicted, but as with people falling from their chairs, she seriously and shamelessly enjoys hearing all about it! J 

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Dot: Hee. LOL. Yeah. I just sort of slung that whole bit in there last chapter. BAM. Fists and fur flying. I think Arwen might be interested in a divorce too at this point. Irreconcilable differences.

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Pie: Hee. Your prediction was very accurate once again. You're very good. I think you have the Sight. Can you please tell me what I'm going to get on my final next week? Better yet….could you please tell me what's going to BE on my final next week? Not Aragorn and Legolas, I imagine. Sigh.

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Semmerie: The answer to your question is YES! He would try it again. Successfully, this time, it turns out. I think that window thing is getting closer all the time.

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hyper_shark: I could have used you for research as you spewed your drink? It wasn't some horrible thick, black, drink was it? I could have gotten a better description of exactly how the liquid would fly and at what angle, etc. Oh well. Hindsight.

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Jambaby: Send me to Fiji while you are at it, pretty please? 

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Elemmire: Thanks so much. Hope you still think so!

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ThE iNsAnE oNe: I think I'm going to need to take over your name in a day or two, okay? LOL. I'm glad you liked the last one…the insanity continues…long live insanity…

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Laura: I think the last chapter was my favorite to write too. It's the first one that's made me seriously giggle as I was proofreading it. Just the idea of it…I don't even think I did it justice in words compared to what I saw in my head, but I tried!

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LegyLuva: Haven't I warned you before about walking around and muttering that you're the Kig? It's dangerous. Ah, there's no hope. They're already after you any way. And falling off your chair would not improve your lot, so get a seat belt of something please! I don't want you disappearing!

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TrinityC: Yes…Arwen's reaction, quite different from our boys. I decided not even to make her suffer through watching them this chapter. I'll just wait until they're both broken into little pieces and have her sweep them up. Your review was particularly sweet. Thanks man!

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Trustingfriendship: Oh, lord. I remember those days of the computer lab. I was always the weird girl snickering in the back at some fan fiction I was reading too. And then, heaven forbid a friend come up behind you and demand in a loud voice that you explain who Aragorn and Legolas are…thanks though! I hope I didn't cause any embarrassment!

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Kaz: Okay, so it is possible. Reaching the point where you BEGIN a dissertation I mean. Because I'm trying to survive my first year as a PhD student, and the dissertation seems like a mystical sort of thing to me still, some vague light at the end of the tunnel…wow. I'm a little in awe of you.

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Angel: Should I admit that I spent quite a lot of time wondering what it meant that you were laughing so hard you were going to PIMP. I thought that I must be really uncool to not know the lingo anymore…then eventually I figured it out, and I sincerely hope that you avoided such a fate. Hee hee. 

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Dragon-of-the-North: I was heartbroken when you missed a chapter. Utterly dejected. I didn't know what to do with myself…no seriously, I missed ya! Yes. I think the sequel to this one needs to be all out war. It all started with pink ribbons, then the sniffles, and next, it's armies marching on each other. Ah. What a trilogy that would make.

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RainyDayz: It gives me such perverse satisfaction to hear that I've knocked people from their chairs. Thanks for making my day…well, night, but you know. Hey! Send those "many good things" my way please! I work for good things!

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Chiki45: hee hee. I'm thinking it may be awhile now before either is going to go anywhere with the other where one might have a weapon! Penguins huh? LOL. That's a very unique send off. I like it!

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Estelcontar: I would pay very good money to have seen Legolas' face for real like I saw it in my head. Hey…would you pay all the money in the world if I just described it to you in a lot of detail? Can't blame a girl for trying.

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Strider4me: You people should be ashamed of yourselves, wanting Aragorn to stay sick! I'm wildly pleased about that. Thanks for your review! Hey! I swear I had the idea for this chapter before your review, but I think you're a little bit of a prophet like Pie is!

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Nat: Hey! I know you! Of course, the feeling is mutual. Please don't fall out of your chair…you couldn't see the screen in order to write your own stories!

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Jedi-Faramir: Gollum, is that you? We HATESSSS paperssss! YES PRECIOUS WE DOES! I would totally love to read the bedtime story. If you don't mind, send it to me gliterin2000@yahoo.com. And I'm so proud. You did the evil laugh! 

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EarthFaery: So it wasn't Legolas you needed to be scared for in this chapter…but the next one, I'd be a little worried. I think I'm like you. I love Aragorn just a touch more than Legolas, but I'd take Legolas in a second!

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Mari: You're forgiven because you made me grin! And ah, yes, enter the sword fights. Soon. I'd almost forgotten all about them…but both Aragorn and Legolas started waving and jumping up and down and pointing up at the title hopefully. I fear I shall have to arm them soon. Alas. And I loved them both so. And our dear Arwen. She is so restrained. I remain so proud of her throughout this whole ordeal.

Sigh. Now back to my real world of CRAP, i.e. papers, presentations, and finals, oh my! 

Could I whine any more? I'm starting to sound like the Kig.


	8. Taking His Rest

Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

__

*Thanks to Sami, whose review inspired this chapter. 

Chapter Eight: Taking His Rest

Aragorn launched himself off his pillows with a speed and force that took even him by surprise. Legolas, however, was quite prepared for the Elessar that flew through the air towards him and stepped nimbly out of the way.

Aragorn, his target shifted too late to correct his aim, pitched into thin air and out of the bed.

Legolas rather enjoyed watching the King's bare legs fly above his head as he tumbled from the bed head first, flipping somewhere in midair, and finally coming to an abrupt halt on the flat of his back, with a satisfying smacking sound of skin against stone. 

"Ow." Aragorn simply said and blinked up at the ceiling, leaving his arms flailed out to his sides, the posture he'd been in as he'd tried, unsuccessfully, to catch himself before hitting the floor. 

In a moment, Legolas peered over him. "You have lovely legs, Estel. I had no idea, really."

Aragorn quickly reached down and jerked his nightdress back down past his knees. "I hade you."

"You did not have me. Not even close," Legolas disagreed.

"Nod _had_. Hade. _Hade_…despise."

"Oh, I see now. You hate me," Legolas said merrily. "Well done."

Aragorn continued to stare up at Legolas, wondering why the elf smiled so broadly and where his own fight had gone so suddenly. He should really put an end to the elf as soon as possible, or at least maim him, but as it were, he felt perfectly content to lay still there, the cold stone pressing against the back of his legs, his heated skull throbbing against it.

As he watched, Legolas' face began to waver, as if he looked at a reflection of the elf in a fountain rather than the elf himself. Cocking his head to the side, he saw colors swimming and hovering around Legolas' golden head, watched in amazement as they materialized into little bursts, like fireworks. 

"Hmmm," he said, fascinated. 

"How do you feel, Aragorn?" Legolas wondered knowingly.

And something in that tone returned Aragorn, for only a moment, to sobriety. "You haf poisoed me," he accused, but already his interest was wavering.

"Nay, poisoned is such a strong word. I have drugged you, yes. Don't worry. It will only help you sleep. It will not kill you, most likely."

"Did the healerd pud this in the medicid?"

Legolas smiled, bending in and out of focus, his face obscured by a large purple butterfly-like cloud that floated across it. Aragorn heard the elf's voice as if from some great distance. "He is far too loyal to you to put anything else in your medicine. You forget I know something of plants and trees. I found the root myself. Your gardens are quite adept to the needs of a healer, you know."

"You are nod a healerd!" Aragorn charged, eyelids lowering.

"Nay. But your recovery requires plenty of rest. You must rest more."

"Id thad whad the healerd said?" Aragorn wondered. 

"It is what I say. If you do not sleep, I fear what I shall do to impede your recovery. Let us get you into bed, mellon nin. Your dreams should be sweet ones. I will wake you when it is time to take your medicine again. Or perhaps after you've already taken it."

Legolas reached down and struggled to lift Aragorn off the floor. Aragorn was little help in the matter, his limbs gone limp and heavy as a dead man's. By the time Legolas got him semi-on his feet and urged him the two steps toward the bed, Aragorn was almost snoring. 

With a final shove, Legolas got Aragorn onto the mattress, though the King fell face down in the pillows. His breathing was muffled, if not stopped altogether, but still Aragorn did not move. With a great sigh of impatience, Legolas hurried to the other side of the bed, and crawled upon it, reaching over the still form and grabbing Aragorn's far shoulder. 

He pulled a little, but Estel did not budge. He couldn't very well let the king suffocate into his own pillows, so with a determined set of his jaw, Legolas prepared to pull the dead weight over onto his back. 

In his fear of having to tell Arwen he'd killed Aragorn, Legolas put too much strength into the effort and Aragorn rolled easier than he'd intended. Caught off balance, with all of his momentum coming back at him unspent, it was the elf's turn to tumble backwards off the bed and onto the floor.

"Ow." He murmured, much as Aragorn had, from the flat of his back and looked at the ceiling.

And from the bed, there came just the slightest sound, one that could have almost been a giggle that soon dissolved into snores.

***

Early the next day, Arwen paused outside the door to her and Aragorn's chambers. 

Something seemed wrong. It was too quiet. Too peaceful. She could hear birds singing through the open window of the hallway, welcoming in the spring morning. No shouting, no insults, no threats. It was almost eerie.

Supposing she would find they'd finally killed one another since she had left them, black medicine smeared across both their faces, Arwen stepped into the room and raised her eyebrow in surprise. 

The curtains were drawn open and light spilled into the room. Aragorn slept soundly in a rectangle of sunlight, a blissful smile upon his face. Legolas too, slept, perched in the windowsill. 

She made not a sound, but went to her husband's side, and sat lightly down on the bed beside him, without even a twitch of blankets.

Unable to help herself, because he looked so dear at the moment, smiling in his sleep, his nose cherry red and his chapped lips parted a little, she reached forward and stroked his cheek.

His smile stretched those chapped lips and he gave a delightful little laugh in his sleep, a high-pitched "hee," which caused her, in turn, to laugh softly. 

The slight sound awakened Legolas, who quickly shifted his gaze to Aragorn's bedside. He smiled when he saw Evenstar, tenderly stroking Aragorn's cheek. 

And for a moment, he left her to her thoughts of her husband, suspecting they were the first kind ones she'd had towards him in days and days. 

However, when he saw her expression turn solemn and inward, he felt obligated to intrude and lift her from whatever sorrowful thoughts she had descended into.

"Lady?" he inquired, as he left the windowsill and walked to the opposite side of Aragorn's bed from where she sat. "What troubles you?"

She did not look surprised that he had read her expression. With a sigh, she brushed Aragorn's hair back from his forehead. "I was thinking of how easily these mortals expire. A simple chill, a fall from a horse, an arrow gone astray, any of these things may so easily be the end them." 

"Aragorn is strong, My Lady. Your children are strong. They are of the blood of Elendil."

"I know, Legolas. But not even that will keep them from their final fate."

She looked so troubled, and there was nothing Legolas could think of to offer her as comfort, for the thought also plagued and troubled him, and had since he had seen how easily men could fall at Helms Deep.

"It is the risk we take in loving them, Lady," Legolas murmured at last, "in loving _him_."

Arwen nodded silently, a bittersweet smile crossing her lips as Aragorn smiled and laughed softly again in his sleep.

"You have drugged him with Somneil root," she guessed.

"He used the word 'poisoned,'" Legolas admitted with a nod. "He has slept soundly now for almost twelve hours. Through the evening and night."

"No wonder he is smiling. Dear, foolish man," Arwen shook her head and sighed again, looking to Legolas. 

She had attempted to be light, but Legolas could still read her thoughts in her eyes, knew she still considered not only Aragorn's ultimate fate, but her own.

Knowing that he saw this, she finally gave her thoughts to him. "Is it worth it, Legolas? Is it worth the pain?"

Legolas smiled gently at her, and a thousand years of wisdom fell from him in his next words.

"Love is always worth it, Arwen. It is worth any price. And you have always known it, even when the rest of us did not."

********

To be continued…

**A moment of seriousness here, from out of nowhere seemingly, but just to assure you I've somewhat held onto my sanity, because in the next chapter, I will push the limits of absurdity, even for this story, I think. 

*** I didn't want to give it away before hand, but it was Sami who said it was about time for the elf to give the King a tranquilizer, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was absolutely right. It wasn't in the original plans, but I liked it so much, I hope you don't mind that I used it, Sami! It was good for an extra chapter!

Anyway, thanks once again! Here goes:

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JEbb: Wow. Kellogs on the keyboard. A most interesting dilemma…I hope all is squared away and that you've learned your lesson. Which to me, would be, don't get up early enough to eat cereal!

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Orion: my chanting friend! Hello! Thank you very, very, very, very, very, very much! 

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Mouse: "evil little vegemite mate." Quite possibly my most favorite thing I've ever been called. LOL. Each week my level of evil goes up. I'm so proud that you've noticed! Thanks for the wishes of luck. 19 written pages later, my final is over and I don't even care anymore.

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LegyLuva: You know, if it works for you to be the "kig," I say go for it. Although Michelle Frodo has expressed her concerns about your habit. So you liked having Legolas hit the floor huh? 

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Dot: Ooh! Evil wench is good too! Mouse had better look out! As for your question of what is more important, I give you a resounding LOTR FICTION! Unfortunately, it doesn't pay as well as my stipend. And my poor dog has to eat. And of course Legolas had Aragorn all figured out!

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Strider4Me: Well, I guess Legolas can't really HURT the king, however, if the King happens to hurt himself in the process, he's really innocent in the matter isn't he?

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Arwen Undomiel: Love right back at you! Thanks so much! And I still put up a fight…not so much with cough syrup, which I was taking earlier this winter…hey that's some good stuff and I've never slept better in my life. Friends started telling me they were going to take it away after three days or so, but eyedrops, I put up a fight to rival Aragorn at the eye doctor! That was random information, huh?

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Trinity C: Thanks for the luck wishes. After my presentation tomorrow morning…well I'll still have two huge papers due, but I'm trying to make myself feel better, so we'll say it's all downhill from there. Long live Arwen and feminine wisdom! Hugs back!

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Dragon-of-the-North: You do have a point, it seems, about war "being upon" them. The cold speak is likely to continue and may even take on more accurate shades, as I finally, have come into my comeuppance and am sniffling and sneezing. For instance, earlier today, when I said "come here" to my friend, I learned it would actually be "cub ear." Ah, alas. If only I had contracted this two weeks ago…then again, it wouldn't have been finals week then, and I wouldn't have been forced to sit in a silent room and sniffle and sneeze while everyone attempts to write essays. 

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Jedi-Faramir: Well, I think that the argument can be made that this elf, at this moment, certainly deserves to claim "weariness." *You RUINS it precioussss, spoiling nasty laugh with tripsssses! Ah, and I was so proud of you last week. Maybe we get it down stationary, then progress to the moving evil laugh? 

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Sami: You totally inspired me with your idea….hope you don't mind, but thought you might not since you were kind enough to suggest it! I hadn't planned the tranquilizer, but it was just too good to pass up. 

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Semmerie: ROUND 8!!!! Both parties were allowed to retire to their corners for a few minutes, but the bell is about to ring again (cue Arwen and Eowyn in bikinis walking around the ring in high heels with large signs with "8" on them). 

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Mwpplover: So, I'm trying to keep them both alive, but it is, at this point, totally out of my hands. I can't control these two any longer! 

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Kaz: No, no, I refuse to lose my awe. I am now your biggest fan! YEAH! If you need a cheering section for finishing up your dissertation, I'm your girl. I'm so impressed! Just for you, I'm not going to kill them in the next chapter at least.

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Estelcontar: well, be industrious. Start working on all the money in the world. Actually, I'll haggle. At this point, I'd sell my soul for $5 and a margarita. And oh, yes, let's assume the floor was dirty and the elf had a big old smudge on his face! 

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Urylia: Thanks so much! I usually update a little more quickly, but my real life is totally in the way. I should do better from here on out.

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IMJinnie: Hey! So, have you figured out who else is in TTT yet? It isn't just Legolas, I told you! Anyway, although this wasn't the much anticipated "flame," thanks anyway!

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EarthFaery/Tessa: LOL. I have more readers who should probably be hauled away than any other writer in this whole archive, I think. I fit right in. It's so nice! Well, I hope you have avoided being dragged off thus far!

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Chiki45: Wow. Such a generous offer…sacrifice your little brother huh? I'm so touched. Then again, you might need to keep him around. I imagine they are good for something, but being an only child, I'm not sure what. I think I'm beyond the help of all the fire gods at this point anyway. Sigh.

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tapetum lucidum: LOL. And who's side are you on? I'm not sure what I could to that would be worse than bludgeoning. I'll work on it! Hee. Maybe this'll give you some idea for medicating your kids? Then again, it might be a little illegal to tie then down and drug them, which is probably why it's a good thing I don't have kids yet.

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Whitestar: I like your mental picture. I had more in mind, Legolas with a fist full of Aragorn's forelock, almost like he was holding up a severed head or something. Thanks for the good luck! Maybe it paid off. I'm sure y'all here about it in one form of ranting or another.

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Lily of the Shadow: Yes, I could! Soon enough? Thanks!

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Nilbrethiliel: Aww! You're so sweet. So much so that I hope you weren't hurt when you fell from your chair. I just hope no one was around to witness it, for your sake! And I like your style! That's my new motto: Let em suffer!

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Laura: I laughed at YOUR description of Legolas as the WWI soldier. I just had a picture of him in the hat, and I don't know, I'm sleep deprived okay? 

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Mari: Well, Aragorn was fuddled by fever and medicine, so we'll just let him live in his little bubble that the trap could have worked! And yes…I have read so many stories with such wonderful subtle humor…and then there's mine. I think I'm the writer equivalent to Jim Carrey…and yet, I love Ace Ventura Pet Detective so unnaturally much, is it even surprising I continue to go round the bend? 

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Pie: I missed you! Bless your little sleep deprived heart. Though I am a little jealous that you've been gallivanting on holiday while I slave over research, but I'll forgive you as your new term has probably started by now. I'm sick too! I hope you feel better by now. I'm just starting to get my cold. That's good news that you've seen high marks for me. Since I read your prophecy, I just didn't even bother to fill out the test okay? (That's a lie, if you read earlier reviews, I wrote 19 pages in two hours and if that isn't enough I don't know what is!). The review did brighten my day very much. Grassy-ass. (how a southerner pronounces thank you in Spanish). Feel better!

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Elessarfanatic: I don't know what was funnier. Your review or your email address! And no, I don't mind being called Jo. Or Joan. However, when my college roommate started calling me HoJo, I took exception. Which, of course, only encouraged her. As for the English teacher…it isn't the only one I've nearly killed. There was one in 9th grade who I think I nearly ended not with laughter, but with dangling modifiers and such. LORD. I cringe to think an English tutor read this, as I've been doing it without a beta and there are comma splices EVERYWHERE! LOL. Takes me back to the day! And yes, I deserved the yelling. I've completely destroyed all the nobility surrounding Aragorn huh? And yesss, we loves gollum preciousssssss! Definitely sexier than Aragorn or Legolas. Big blues eyes, balding, clammy skin…split personalities? What a catch!

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Michelle Frodo: all my fault? I'm so insulted, after I've tried very hard to stop LegyLuva from walking around proclaiming herself royalty for weeks, but it didn't work and I've finally given up on her. I think she really thinks she's the "kig." Glad you are feeling better. Did you give me your cold when you left the review? And good luck on your exams! I've got the biggest one out of my way now! 

***The weirdest thing happened last night. About 4 in the morning as I was going to bed after studying, I lay down and all of a sudden, my mattress starting shifting back and forth. I thought my dog was crawling around under my bed or something, but no…it was an EARTHQUAKE. I didn't realize this until I talked to my mom and dad, three states away, who said that everyone was talking about it, but as I've been secluded from the outside world and in Finals Land, and not watching the news, I had no idea. Apparently we had some little tremors too, which in my part of the country is unheard of. Never been in an earthquake before. It was less exciting than I thought it would be at the time, now I'm a little freaked out. So that's my story for the week. It doesn't take much to amuse me.

A fond farewell until the next chapter, in which there will be, as promised, much absurdity, and which should be coming soon, barring any more natural disasters or grave illnesses (wow, I don't exaggerate things at all do I?). Now, I'm just sitting here waiting for another earthquake. I'm such a wimp. 


	9. Pacifying the Patient

Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

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Chapter Nine: Pacifying the Patient

Aragorn finally awakened at noon, which was a relief to Legolas, who had begun to think he had killed the King after all, and as Arwen seemed not quite ready for that yet, he would have sorely regretted causing her pain. 

When he stirred, Legolas quickly moved to his bedside and waited expectantly, ready to spring away should Aragorn lunge again. 

But Aragorn's eyes opened slowly, squinted against the light, and turned, unfocused, toward Legolas. A wide grin traveled across his face as he recognized his friend.

"Mae govadded, Legolad!" he said warmly and extended a hand in greeting. "Whed did you ged to the cidy?"

__

I have done some damage to his mind, was Legolas' first thought as he took Aragorn's hand, at a lost of what else to do. His second was, _Arwen will kill me_.

Aragorn clasped his hand and pulled himself up, throwing both arms around Legolas' neck and holding tightly in a massive hug. Caught off balance, Legolas was pulled downward, collapsing on top of Aragorn, who continued to hold him tightly round the throat. Legolas kicked his legs and looked for leverage, but could not reach the floor from where he dangled in Aragorn's arms, his face pressed hard in Aragorn's armpit.

"Well med!" Aragorn was saying, but Legolas heard little else because his ears were starting to rush with blood trapped in his brain by Aragorn's death hold.

"Ara---" Legolas struggled to pry the King's arms from his throat, "Ara--GORF!" He finally choked out and broke free from the death hold, gasping for air. 

Aragorn was still smiling very sweetly as Legolas retreated to a safe distance. "How are you feeling?" he asked carefully.

Aragorn didn't answer and instead stared up at the ceiling, mouth hanging agape in awe of something. Legolas glanced up at the ceiling, saw nothing, and looked back to Aragorn who still watched the air above him in fascination. Legolas looked more closely, but still saw nothing but bare stone.

"Well, loog ad thad," Aragorn murmured in wonder, chuckling to himself and giving a little wave to the ceiling.

Worried now, Legolas stepped closer to the bed, snapped his fingers before Aragorn's face and waited for Aragorn to slowly look at him and smile in greeting all over again.

"Well med!" he repeated.

"Can you tell me who you are?" Legolas asked nervously, asking the Valar to keep Arwen with her children until Aragorn could be restored to his former self. 

"Do nod be ridculud," Aragorn giggled a little. "Don'd you know who I ab?" 

"Yes. Yes. Who are you?" Legolas pried, hoping to draw the right answer.

"I like thid gab!" Aragorn threw back his head and howled with laughter, before sitting up in bed and fixing a stern look upon his face and proclaiming, "You shall nod passssssed!" as he drove an imaginary sword down on the bed between his knees. 

Legolas looked completely horrified and Aragorn laughed and slapped his knee. "Cub odd, Legolad. You know thid. Who ab I?"

"What game? What are you talking about?"

"We meed agaid. Ad the turn of the tide," Aragorn tried again.

Giving in at last, and knowing there was little else to do until the strange effect of the root wore off of Aragorn, Legolas sighed, and played along. "You're Gandalf."

"Good! Led's play agaid!" Aragorn grinned and thought for a moment. "Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo! Where had Mr. Frodo god off to now?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "At least give me a bit of a challenge, Samwise."

Aragorn narrowed his eyes. "All righd. If you are so smard, you go."

"I don't want…" Legolas began but when he saw that Aragorn was preparing for a revolt if he did not, sighed and considered. At last, feeling very foolish, he droned out in monotone, "I will not have a pointy-ear out scoring me."

"Gibli," Aragorn announced. 

"Very good. Now may we stop playing this ridiculous game?" 

"Thid wad Eldariod's favoride gab!" Aragorn muttered dangerously. 

"Fine then, fine. Your turn," Legolas sighed and retreated to the window sill as he watched Aragorn think very hard on who would be next.

"I ab nod afraid of paid or death. Cages worry be."

"Eowyn," Legolas answered quickly and Aragorn looked a little surprised at how easy it had been for him.

Aragorn waited expectantly.

"Oh for the love of the Valar," Legolas muttered under his breath. "I shall not leave my daughter in Middle Earth in the hands of a filthy Ranger!"

Aragorn raised a brow. "I do nod thig thad wad how he pud id, exadly, but Elrod."

"You're good at this game," Legolas said sweetly. 

Aragorn scowled as if trying to gauge if he was being patronized, which he was, but then smiled. "Try thid. 'Gondor needs no Kig!'"

"Aragorn, it is not polite to mock the dead," Legolas scolded.

A look of utter horror flashed on Aragorn's face. "Boromir id dead? Whed did this happed?" 

And so the hour went on, as Aragorn exhausted all of the people he'd ever known in Middle Earth, and quite a few he had not. Legolas grew very weary of the game, but Aragorn was tireless in his amusement with it, howling at his own impressions and even at Legolas' as the elf grew more inspired by his easy audience.

At last, Arwen stepped in the door and Aragorn sat up again in bed and made claws out of his hands. "My Preciousssss!" He hissed at her, "we wads her, we neeeeeeds her, precioussssss!"

"What in--?" was all she was able to choke out after a moment of stunned silence.

Legolas cringed and met Arwen's questioning, and rather accusatory, look. "He's Gollum," was the only explanation that seemed fitting.

"Gollub, gollub," Aragorn agreed, and exploded into a fit of laughter punctuated with coughs.

*******

Sorry for this bit of an interruption, but: 

In a complete 180, I took a break from this story to go back to my old comfort zone of angst (which is why this chapter is a bit shorter than some…I gave too much time to the new story!). I would love your comments on_ Namárië, Elessar, _which can be assessed through my author page. 

I am actually looking for a beta reader for future stories. I plan on doing a fairly long piece after wrapping this up, which will primarily be drama, and probably more in the style of my new story. If you enjoy _Namárië, Elessar_, and have time to be a beta for me over the summer and don't mind telling me if a chapter I send you really sucks, please contact me! 

***For you guys: 

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TrinityC: Well, you wouldn't know it from how I've been posting the last few days, but I'm not quite done yet, but your good wishes have been felt and appreciated. One more paper left, and you can see how motivated I am to finish it. Ack. And I wouldn't mind so much going the way of Aragorn in this chapter…I'd like to find a happy place like he has.

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Erin: good lord. You MUST have been sleep deprived to think this story made any paper writing stint worth it! But that's how I like my reviewers…wavering on the brink of insanity. And so much for seriousness. Long gone in this chapter. But if I made you like Arwen, rock on! Thanks so much for reviewing. You know that you're my hero anyway, but I'll mention that here again. (You're my hero!). 

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Dragon-of-the-North: I have recovered much more quickly and uneventfully than Aragorn, thank goodness. And I'm also a little glad to know that most people liked the end of the last chapter with the seriousness. It was a departure for this story, but I felt the call of the angst (not to be confused with the call of the wild, which I felt a little in chapter six). And yes…Somneil root. I decided to name the root at the last second, and so decided that elements of Middle Earth had survived to this day. This being one of them. Um, not so much, but it seemed like a good idea at 2 in the morning, as most things do. Like being on the computer during a tornado warning.

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Tessa: Thanks for the love and luck. Still need a little of both! Not to worry, the action will be returning very soon. Do you think you'd still love Aragorn's legs sticking out from a little night dress? That image actually turned me off a bit!

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Dot: Um duh. I asked you if you were having exams too in an email, and then saw your review and remembered. Good luck with that! Over with yet? You can see I obviously pulled it back a little bit, only to push it over the edge in this chapter. Thanks for your very sweet review of Farewell, King. (don't feel like looking up the spelling of the elvish title).

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Semmerie: I'm with you with the blackmail thing. I mean, who could possibly ever take an order from such a Kig again? Oh LORD with the thermometer comment…I could just…no, I think it best not to go "there" as this would turn into a different kind of story altogether wouldn't it? What do you mean you don't get colds? Are YOU an elf? Or just one of those really annoying people who are perpetually healthy and make the rest of us look bad by never missing a day of school or work? Hmm? Hmm?

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Legyluva: (in soothing voice) yes, yes, you are the Kig. Please come away from the window, dear. And yes, more fights are promised. Soon.

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MichelleFrodo: So not much lovey stuff in this chapter and the action is coming back, so hang with me another chapter! You're right. I take full responsibility for the "Kig." I apologize to you and all her other subjects.

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Kaz: Oh my goodness, CONGRATS!!! Whoo hoo. And there was much rejoicing! Yippee! Oh my, I bet that's a nice, nice feeling. I think I shall pass out from joy when I finish my last paper (which by the way I should be doing now)…I can't even imagine having the dissertation done with. And you really are too sweet…it really made my day when you said the fiction helped you through it…lol. Or the last five minutes of it, more like. And I LIKE essays! It lets me procrastinate a bit longer when y'all write me paragraphs. Tell me your life story, really!

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Strider4me: Earthquakes ARE scary…and so are tornados, which we've been having warnings for all afternoon and night. I'm ready to move to a nice, violent-weather free place…like…I don't know…England? 

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Suze: Hundreds more chapters…hmm. The longest cold EVER! I like it. I will at least guarantee two more chapters! How's that?

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Laura: I know! Seriousness, in the midst of this…well…is there even a word for what this has been up to this point and is again? Probably not. Tomfoolery. There. I've never used that word in my life till now. Maybe in middle-earth you could call it a "warg-fight?" Hmm. "Orc-fight?" "Ent-fight?" I think I like warg-fight best.

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tapetum lucidum: (smacks self in forehead)…duh! I didn't even think to add in a line from Legolas that they had HER blood, instead of the blood of Elendil. That might have been a bit more comforting huh? Well, there's always revision. 

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Hoppi: The "kig" things seems to have caught on. Lord knows why, but I'm happy about it! Thanks for reviewing!

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Mouse: Thanks so much. I don't know many things about life, but I think I know that, at least. And that's enough, maybe.

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Nilmandra: I have no idea when it occurred to me to try this, but the writing of it has been so much fun! Just so you know, you're "May the Valar Protect Them" is on my must read list. I can't wait! It looks incredible!

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IMJinnie: Sigh. Thanks anyway, but still. Not so much a flame. Oh well. You really are a little scary, you know. Well, yes, you do. But then again, that's why I like you, I guess. 

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Pie: I have to say, I laughed more at your review of _Namárië, Elessar_ than even this one. And I'll probably reply to it there too, but I couldn't wait…yes, I wanted to make you cry! And yes, I'm satisfied, but my plan backfired, because in trying to toy with your emotions, I just completely depressed myself and ended up putting my head down on my desk and sobbing…and was in the foulest mood imaginable for the rest of the day. I wish I could have written the story as I was thinking of it, because it would have seriously depressed you. I didn't do it justice. Oh well. Feeling better now? Anyway, I think Tasmania sounds cool, but then again, I'd kill to come to Australia too! Actually, I know nothing about Tasmania…I always get it confused with Transylvania, where the vampires are. Which is what I just did. 

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Estelcontar: Hey! It's the perfect day for a margarita too! Damn. Actually it's pass midnight. I missed it. Oh well, that isn't going to stop me. So much for balance with this chapter huh?

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Jen: Thanks so much for stepping from the shadows! I'm so glad you like the story!

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LilyoftheShadow: So, now it's gone from bittersweet to just well…is there even a word for what it's come to at this point?

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Sami: You did inspire someone! You're right. You should have kept the idea under wraps! And see, it spawned this whole chapter too. You just gave the story complete momentum…and hmm…the end of your review makes me wonder if you know something…if you don't know what I'm talking about, then forget it.

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Xero: Isn't it strange how the tiniest things can push us over the edge completely? I'm very glad you're liking the story. Hope you still do!

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Zoya: Glad I made you laugh. 

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Runaround: I can make no promises, at this point it's every man…or elf…for himself.

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Mari: LOL. I loved your review. It was a proclamation: Hilarious I say! I laughed out loud when I read that. I pictured you sitting there with one finger in the air as you said it. And the tornado alarms at the university just started sounding over the town for the EIGHTH TIME tonight. You have got to be kidding me! Off to check for a tornado…I'm back…God, that's the most frightening sound in the world. Gives me chills. Okay, it has died off. And I know that was stream-of-consciousness, but I'm terrified of tornados and I just talked myself through it. Whew. Not a fun night. Here. Anyway, Lord, was that more information than you wanted? Thanks man, for being there! And thanks for the review, and of my new story as well. And there the sirens go again. To my neighbor's apartment downstairs for shelter!

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Stardancer: hi there! Back from the shelter. Thanks for all my reviews! You made my day! Yes…the idea was to let Legolas have revenge for the pink ribbons, but it seems that the elf is getting as much as he's getting here. I don't know why I enjoy the elf-torture so much…perhaps it's that I can't bear to torture the Kig. Who knows. 

****Oh, and a special note…a few or you, and someone in particular who has remained nameless to me, had my back about a week ago, and that's all I'll say, and though I worked things out and everything is fine and a big misunderstanding was cleared up, I really, really appreciate whoever it was that cared enough to look out for my work. Many hugs to you. --J


	10. Needling

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Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

Chapter 10: Needling 

Aragorn seemed to thoroughly enjoy his stint as Gollum and was still carrying on about the precioussss as Arwen stood in the doorway and watched him through increasingly widened eyes.

In a rather pathetic attempt to hide Aragorn, Legolas moved between the bed and Arwen, hoping to obscure her view, though he suspected the damage was already done.

"What have you done to my husband, Legolas?" Arwen asked, rather calmly for someone who's husband thought he was a five-hundred or so year-old hobbit in the possession of the One Ring. 

"I--I told you. I put the root in the medicine," Legolas murmured, looking at his feet.

"How much of the root did you put in the medicine?" Arwen pressed as Legolas stopped just short of dragging his toe along the ground as Imeren did when she was scolded.

"Well, I did not think I could get him to swallow as much of the medicine as he did. I was concerned about his lack of rest."

"Yes. _His_ lack of rest was clearly the motive in this situation," Arwen said in a tone of great disappointment.

"He spit medicine on me! He drew blood! I had very little choice in the matter!" Legolas defended himself, pointing to the already healing scratches upon one cheek and the now mostly faded bruise on his other. 

From behind him, he heard Aragorn continue. "Three hudred against ten thousad! They are all goig to die! There's no hope! We'll never make id! Aragorb, you must protect be!" 

"Do you see what I have had to put up with?" Legolas asked, imploring for understanding as he gestured behind him.

"I know he is not an easy charge, but Legolas, truly…how much of the root did you give him?" Arwen asked again, her voice gentling. In a moment though, her eyebrows climbed almost to her hairline as she looked around Legolas to Aragorn.

Legolas turned reluctantly, afraid of what he would find, and rightly so. Aragorn had climbed to his feet atop the bed. When he saw that he had his audience's attention, he drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders and pointed at Legolas, "I would cud off your head, dward, if id stood bud a liddle higher frob the groud!"

"Clearly you've got work to do here, Legolas, and I shall leave you to it. Please keep him from leaping from the windows if he thinks he's the Wind Lord?" 

"Ill news is an ill guest!" Aragorn growled at Arwen.

Legolas winced, because Arwen's glare in response to that bit of pleasantness was directed right at him. Shaking her head, she murmured something about returning later when her husband was hopefully restored to his right mind, and walked from the room.

"The precioussss is lossssst!" Aragorn wailed after her, and Legolas would have sworn when he turned and met Aragorn's eyes that he saw a flash of wicked amusement in them and that Elessar knew very well what he was doing as he placed Legolas in Arwen's bad graces.

*

His head pounded as if with the thrumming of the very drums of war, the dull headache he'd grown used to in past days obscured completely by the new and utter agony of the building pressure against his skull.

He was dizzy, disoriented, and confused, and felt as if he could sleep for years, if only the persistent pounding of his head would recede.

At last he forced his eyes to open, knew the meaning of agony, and saw Legolas hurriedly come forward.

In a flash of memory, which also seared his brain, he remembered lunging out of the bed at Legolas, and then looking up from the flat of his back as Legolas stood over him with a knowing…and victorious…look. Beyond that, he knew nothing at all.

"Who are you now?" Legolas asked him cautiously as Aragorn blinked in confusion and was rewarded by the annoyed, and distinctly Aragorn-esque look he received in return.

"You poisoed me!" Aragorn's whispered accusation was accompanied by his finger stabbing through the air at Legolas. The sudden movement cost him and he dropped his hand instead to clutch his head.

"Only a little." Legolas returned. "You've survived it." 

"The pedalty for tryig to kill a Kig is death," Aragorn reminded him darkly.

"I was not trying to kill you. At least I do not think I was," Legolas shrugged. "At the time, my motives were unclear to me." 

"You gave me Somneil plant?" Aragorn wondered as he took the nearly empty vial from his bedside and sniffed it experimentally, immediately screwing his face into one of disgust as a massive shudder took his shoulders. "How mud?" 

"Half the root of a good sized plant," Legolas admitted sheepishly.

"Legolad!" Aragorn cried. "How log haf I beed sleepig?" 

"You mean before or after you tried to bring down the mountain on me and the other hobbits?" 

"Whad are you talkig aboud? Did you tag somb of the rood too?" 

"No, but I'm beginning to wish I had some right now," Legolas sighed and agreeably fetched Aragorn some water when he requested it. It was the least he could do, after all, since he'd nearly killed him.

*

When the last remaining drowsiness from the dose of the mind-altering plant had receded, Aragorn was left with only a terrible headache and increasingly bad temper. He felt restless and heavy and wanted desperately to move about, to exercise his stiff limbs and to desist with this feeling like an old, helpless man, but could not under the watchful eye of his nurse. 

Alas, it had not escaped his attention that the elf had won the war of the medicine and being defeated always put Aragorn in a rather foul mood.

"You never could have overcomb my stregth if you had nod taged me by surprise while I was weaked with fever," Aragorn said some time later, as Legolas sat in the windowsill reading the volume he'd become interested in as Aragorn slumbered. 

"I could have overcome you with both hands bound behind my back, blindfolded, on one leg," Legolas returned easily, without looking up from his book. "But I do not hold it against you, Estel. After all, you are but a mere mortal man."

"A mordal!" Aragorn snorted, as if in defiance of this. "A mordal thad cad wield a sword bedder than you haf ever beed able to do, as well as shood an arrow bedder!" 

"If you must believe that to make yourself feel better, I shall not try to stop you," Legolas shrugged but Aragorn saw his shoulders draw up a bit in annoyance at the implication that Aragorn was better with both sword and bow. 

Legolas fought with a sword better than most, and was likely the best archer of the age, but he had never quite been able to stomach that Aragorn's skill with a blade was legendary, to the point of surpassing his own. It was, perhaps, his one vanity. He prided himself on his ability to handle weaponry. Knowing this, Aragorn began to see a way out of bed, and he pursued it.

"Id is really nod your fauld. Sword fighding is dirdy work. Ad we all know how much you hade to mess up your hair. Addyone cad stand away and shood arrows at somethig," Aragorn shrugged.

"I have ceased to find interest in this discussion," Legolas snapped and deliberately looked out the window so that Aragorn would not see the narrowing of his eyes.

"Do nod be ashabed," Aragorn soothed in a voice like honey, watching the scowl move across the elf's face in the reflection from the window pane. "You are good ad other thigs…I can nod recall whad ad this timb, bud I ab sure there id somethig." 

"The effects of the root are still clearly affecting your brain, mellon nin, if you honestly believe you could best me in a sword fight. I am a better swordsman." 

"Prove id," Aragorn suggested, raising an eyebrow and sitting up in bed.

"I am not going to fight you while you are ill," Legolas tried.

"I seed. You are scared of the truth. I cad respecd thad, I subbose."

"Your attempts to provoke me will not work, Aragorn. Just because I forced the medicine down your throat, successfully, I might add, is no reason for you to feel you must prove your manly superiority to me at this point. I remain unconvinced as ever." 

"Thad wad quite a speech. You must really be scared of me," Aragorn goaded.

Legolas turned back to the book with a quick intake of air that sounded like a hiss, and satisfied, Aragorn sat back on his pillows and watched Legolas battle between his desire to prove him wrong in the matter and his desire not to let him have his way by being tricked into a contest.

Either way, Aragorn supposed, it was a victory for him, and he was entertained, which was of course, his primary concern.

*~*~*~*~*

I have officially survived my first year in my PhD program. After a 48 hour stretch of massive paper writing, I am DONE (Done, Done, Done, Done, Smeagol is FREEE!), and if I may say so, "I ab the kig!" (sorry Legy, just for today). You may ask yourself why would someone who has written two 30 page papers in the space of a week be updating twice in one week? Well, if you get an answer, could you please tell me because I have no idea. All I can figure is that I'm so used to HAVING to write something that I now cannot accept that I am allowed to stop.

This story will be wrapping up fairly shortly, however, of course I was struck by a muse at dawn yesterday morning (always happens when I'm writing things that aren't fun to tempt me back into fiction), and rumors of a sequel can now be confirmed, in addition to a new dramatic story. In the Sequel, tentatively titled, "Slings and Arrows," the tables will be very much turned. Incidentally, the sequel and last chapter of this story will be posted simultaneously for an easy transition! 

************

Anyway, as I am so sleep deprived as to have crossed over the borders of sanity about six hours ago, I cannot be held responsible for anything I say or do in the answering of these reviews. To give you an example, several times in the writing of this, I had Legolas speaking cold speak and then realized, oh, that's not right. 

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Semmerie: Bless your heart, sickly thing! You need some Somneil root and black medicine, I think. It'll fix you right up. Feeling better now though? And your Gollum was quite good as well. Gollum is actually, in real life, the absolute only impression I can manage…but I do it well enough to unnerve several of my friends, so that's saying something!

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The Insane One: it's officially time for me to assume your title. 

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Dawtheminstrel: I think the fact that it was exam week and 6 a.m. was likely the source of your hysteria, you just happened to be reading the story at the time. You clearly just needed that little push over the edge, which I am happy to provide, of course. And yes, they are both pure evil in this story, though I do believe Aragorn wins it for the spitting in the face. 

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Bant: Oh, it seems I'm going to be writing this story forever. Every time I think to wrap it up, I get the idea for another chapter…and not for another story altogether. How in the world did I end up trying to write HUMOR? 

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Mouse: OH! I didn't even THINK of Legolas! That would have been great. In fact, I'm going to go add it into the chapter above right now…which will actually means it will have been there before you read this, but it's almost like time travel for me to do it this way…I told you…sleep deprived. Yes, there, it's done now. Enjoy. Oh, and I've had a generous offer from a beta reader, but I'm open to more than one set of comments, if it's something you'd like to do!

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Nilmandra: Indeed. I discovered Nyquil for the first time this winter, and fell in love with it. Only when I have a cold, but let me tell you. I'm one happy girl on that stuff. I love the far away knees and tingling sort of fingertip feel of that stuff. I sort of feel like that now, come to think of it.

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Pie: I really thought about the strangling in the guise of a hug, but wanted to let Aragorn fly a little longer. I don't think there's really a place called Transylvania, although I really always thought there was until maybe a year or so ago. And yes, yes, Legolas is real, even if Transyvania isn't…no worries mate (don't you say that down under sometimes?). LOL. I guess I could have pulled out "I spy" too last chapter, but perhaps that would have been pushing it a bit too far? What is a doona? And yes, Legolas will play a major, major role in my drama fic. Primarily he, Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, and Faramir. How odd to think winter is coming for you, when we're stepping into the first hot, humid days of summer here.

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Angelsandelves: Thanks! I think I like this one better than Dragons or Ribbons too. It's definitely been more fun to write with all my fun reviews for encouragement!

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JEbb: Increasingly, it looks as if the elf will NOT escape unharmed. Aragorn has many, many plans at this point.

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Zoya: I too admire Legolas' restraint in this whole matter. He's really to be commended.

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Dragon-of-the-North: A one handed review! Have you done something to your other hand as in broken it, or were you just multi-tasking (something I've not learned to do). And yes, it's Aragorf when he's got the strangle hold round your throat, Aragorb any other time. 

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Dot: Hello there! Arwen must be almost ready to wash her hands of them. She simply must. And I believe I feel sorrier for Legolas than Aragorn officially now.

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Polgara-5: Thanks so much!

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tapetum lucidum: I walked around for two days thinking of which lines to include and I can't believe I forgot the forked tongue one! Oh well, I got a little Grima in this chapter anyway. Oh, and I highly recommend using the forked tongue comment to people in general. Grima can be substituted for whatever…example: "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, John Doe, I did not pass through…" You get the point. It still works nicely. And you're closer than you know to my plan for the future! 

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Suze: Per your request, I will deliver two more chapters, in addition to a whole new story. Hope that's okay!

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Kaz: I survived first year! WHOO HOO! See, I told you I would celebrate seriously over smaller things than dissertations. I'm not even waiting to see if I passed or failed anything. Either way, it's over! What kind of puppy is Orli? And here's my motto concerning papers and presentations and such: it will all get done when it has to. I should stitch that on a pillow somewhere.

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Alice: Thanks so much! My dad calls Legolas "legless" and thinks it is a grand joke and I may have mentioned this somewhere before, but his new joke is: "where do you find Legless?" And the answer is "Wherever you left him." GROAN.

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Little-lost-one: thanks! So glad you liked it!

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Angeleyes: Thanks! And don't keep the laughter down, laugh maniacally wherever you are. It'll make the people around you leave you alone!

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CelticBard: Cool name! Why does everyone have such a cooler name than me on this thing? Oh, probably because I picked a boring one! Thank you much! Here you go!

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IceDemon: I ask myself the question of how can I torture Legolas so every single day. And the answers I give myself are just as disturbing as the question…I am glad that you enjoyed it though!

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Raider-K: Aww, thanks! These are my very first attempt ever to write a story in which humor was supposed to be the central sort of theme, so it's been, er…interesting to try to keep it up for this long. 

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BloodandGold: Thanks so much for all my reviews from you this week! It's made the non-stop paper writing…and when I say nonstop I mean paper-writing with a break every five minutes to check my email or search for some random fact on the internet…so much more fun. 

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E.M.Theis: We're all used to your strange, unexplained bouts of crazed laughter at this point. We just sigh and carry on…You do realize that you can't start a story like that and not finish it. "to say this is the funniest thing since the unfortunate incident involving an acquaintance, a super bounce ball, and copious amounts of alcohol…" I mean, come on. Do tell. And please do take my job…not the fan fiction writing so much as the grad student thing. Seriously. It's yours. And longwinded is definitely a good thing. 

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Laura: Or should I call you Legolas…"What do you elf eyes see?" Well Arwen came, as you saw, and promptly left them alone again.

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MichelleFrodo: Lord. She's now taking this act to English lessons? There really is no hope. The soap is in the mail, by the way, with my most humble apologies. And I WAS thinking of ending this story. But apparently I'm going to still be writing sequels to it when I'm 90. And to think I just planned on Dragons or Ribbons to be this one little attempt at humor never to be picked up again…And I am now stuck as a writer of slap-stick comedies.

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LegyLuva: Wow…a little scary are you. Yes, yes, indeed. And I am sure MichelleFrodo would never, EVER exaggerate and that in fact you covered her with "I ab the Kig" tattoos, which got ME into trouble with her, so thanks a lot!

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Estelcontar: Good point! I don't know what I was thinking…oh wait, yes I did. I missed Cinco de Mayo, and so all the specials on margaritas were over with. This weekend I may have several. Or just go straight for the tequila. Tonight it was between a drink or a hot fudge sundae…and the sundae won out. 

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Tessa: as far as what exactly the drug does to him…a little of anything and everything. He's just completely off his rocker, remembering and forgetting random things at will. No rhyme or reason, he's just plain lost it. 

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TrinityC: Yes, I am officially IN the happy place right now and likely will be for a good three or four weeks. After I awaken from a two day nap. Is work better yet? I hope so! You can come get margaritas with Estelcontar and me! 

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Elessarfanactic: okay, so as long as you know you're a little frightening too! Okay, so let me know where your story is when you do get it up, because I surely do not want to have my face eaten…yeah, I'm scared.

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Mari: Well, the tornados are gone for now, but we did have them again the next night and morning and I'm just about sick of rain. I struggled with returning Aragorn to sanity or just letting him wonder the rest of his days muttering about preciouss…alas, I missed him so I brought him back. Such is the power and whim of the pen…or the keyboard as it may be. Wasn't sure how the little one line impressions would go over, but I had SO much fun thinking of which ones to use. 

I shall see you all again soon. Off to bed I go. Sleep, sleep, I am asleep. 


	11. A Fever Broken

Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

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Author's Note: I'm going on vacation Thursday and will likely not update this story until after I return, May 24th. This is not the last chapter. Chapter 12 will be the last, and the sequel will begin at the same time. I just didn't want y'all to think I'd abandoned this story when you don't see a regular update! I hope you'll come back to witness the dramatic, heartbreaking, epic, could-possibly-change-your-outlook-on-life, concluding sequence, or you know, Chapter 12, in a week and a half! --J

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Chapter 11: A Fever Broken

Legolas tried. He tried very hard and very nobly to go back to his book, to let Aragorn's taunting roll off of his shoulders, because he knew that would aggravate Aragorn. 

Nearly as much as Aragorn had aggravated him with his incessant bragging about being the better swordsman.

Even Aragorn knew that his own assertions were folly. He must. Yes, the man was good with a sword, but to insinuate that this, well, youngster, might be able to fight with a blade better than an elf, an elf trained in war and weaponry…it was absurd. The worst sort of insanity.

Aragorn, had, after all, taken quite a bit of the root. Well, not taken, Legolas corrected himself, so much as had it forced down his throat.

They could discuss this rationally soon, when Aragorn was feeling better. And if they could not discuss it, then Legolas could quickly put the man in his place with a quick turn about the courtyard. Perhaps he would not draw too much blood from Aragorn, just enough to settle the matter with finality.

Legolas nodded to himself, made a silent pact. He would not rise to Aragorn's bait; rather, he would let the sick King think he was better with a sword for the moment if that would perhaps ease his fevered mind.

Except that even the suggestion that Aragorn was better just stepped beyond ridiculous and he was having quite a bit of trouble leaving it alone. 

Still, in this particular instance, silence was almost certainly the wiser choice.

"You are absurd. You are not better with a sword than I," Legolas said abruptly, thereby signaling the end of his reign as Legolas the Wise. He had not much enjoyed it as it was.

"Elf, I could lob both poidy ears off your poidy head before you had timb to draw a blade." 

"Your dirty head would be lopped from your shoulders ere your sword cleared its sheath." 

"There id bud one wad to seddle thid madder," Aragorn sighed and sat up. "A dueld!" 

"Do not be a fool. We are not going to duel right now. You are ill. It will not be a fair contest for you in the very prime of health, much less weakened with your mortal's sickness."

"Thid id your only chance to wid againdstd me. I would tag id if I were you…but thag the Valard I ab nod you."

Legolas felt his teeth wearing away beneath the force of his clenched jaw, could feel his blunt fingernails making crescent indentions in his palm. 

"Let us send for swords," the elf said at last with a nod.

"Do nod be ridiculud. The guards are nod goig to brig us blades. I ab sure Arwed told them nod to led either of ud have weapods."

"Then how do you suggest we settle this disagreement?" 

Apparently Aragorn had been contemplating this for some time, hinging all his bets on a fight, for he quickly said, "breg the chair." 

Legolas was annoyed to have been quite so easy to gauge. But the challenge was accepted now, and there was no turning back.

"What?" Legolas asked and Aragorn gave him a sharp look to determine if the elf was playing his game of having him repeat amusing words, but saw that Legolas really did look baffled.

"Breg the chair apard. We cad use the legs."

"Chair legs! Where in Arda did you get that idea?"

"Frob you. Your story. You said you would bludgeod be to death wid a chair leg. Prove id."

"You want me to break the chair apart? Arwen will have your hide and mine!"

"Do nod worry. I ab goig to have your hid first. There will be nothig left for Arwed. Besides, I do nod tag orders from the Queed. Do you?"

Legolas gave an unelfly snort at this idea, something he'd picked up from Aragorn over the years. "Say that to her face when she next visits, and we'll see who gets skinned first. At least I have the good sense to recognize a foe beyond my skill when I see one." 

"Breg the chair!" Aragorn insisted, and when Legolas did not move for the furniture, gave a suffering sigh and threw back the covers, standing up. The last dizziness from the root assaulted him and he staggered in a diagonal line, until at last he reached the wall, which he pressed himself to and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

"How is holding the wall aloft going, mellon nin?" Legolas asked smugly after a moment.

With a determined look, Aragorn pushed off the wall and teetered toward the chair in as straight a line as possible.

Giving Legolas a superior and challenging look, he hefted the chair high above his head and with all the force he possessed, hurled it at the bare stone floor. 

It bounced and skittered and remained in tact. Aragorn stumbled backwards and gasped for air.

"Having trouble, My Lord?" Legolas asked sweetly.

"No!" Aragorn snapped and went to drag the chair up from the floor, and to again try to smash it against the stone with a mighty cry of war.

The chair did not break. Aragorn tried again.

"Your strength is failing. Perhaps a nap before our duel?" Legolas suggested.

"You do id thed!" Aragorn challenged and stepped back.

Confident, Legolas took his place, picked up the chair, and swung it at an expanse of stone wall with all his strength. The reverberation nearly shook his arms out of their sockets and he was forced to drop it from his numbed fingers. The chair did not even wobble as it fell to the ground with a solid clack.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, sneezed, and watched as the elf tried again. And again.

"Did the dwarves make this furniture?" Legolas finally inquired as he slumped against the wall, companionably now, beside Aragorn, who had adopted a similar posture. 

Both stared at their worthy and inanimate adversary for a while. At last, Legolas pointed out, "you would have to fling it from a mountain top to shatter it!"

They gasped some more for a minute, then were set upon by the same thought at the same moment, and together they straightened, looked at one another, and dove for the chair.

They carried it to door leading onto the balcony, looked down to be sure the courtyard below was clear, and tossed it over the edge.

As the chair fell, end over end, Legolas and Aragorn peered after it, holding their breath with anticipation.

The chair seemed to take forever to fall the distance from the high balcony.

When at last, it dropped onto the stone of the courtyard below, scaring birds from the trees Legolas had planted around the rock, it cracked and scattered in several different directions.

Legolas and Aragorn, as children watching a parade below, gave wild cries of glee and stopped just short of embracing one another.

They both hurried inside, unaware that for many days afterwards, there were tales in the city of furniture falling from the sky.

*

Once inside, Aragorn called his guards forth. One of them appeared in the doorway, looking suspiciously from man to elf, who were both poor at concealing the fact they were up to something that they did not wish the Queen to discover.

"Id my wife near?" Aragorn tried to ask casually, and failed.

"No, King Elessar. Would you have me fetch her, My Lord?"

"No!" Aragorn and Legolas gasped out quickly at the same time, and then gave each other identical looks of disdain.

"Is there something amiss, My Lord?" The guard persisted.

"Yed, we seembed to have drobbed a chair from the balcody by mistag."

The guard's brow lowered in confusion and Legolas added, "yes, it was a strange thing, indeed. The King was going to sit in the sunshine for a few moments, but it seems that there was a strong…wind…and it was very strange, but the chair was picked up and fell from the balcony. I suppose we are all fortunate the King was not yet sitting in the aforementioned chair at the time…the time of the wind which picked it up and threw it over the balcony, that is."

Aragorn coughed abruptly and gave Legolas an incredulous look before turning to the guard. "Pleased have sombwud brig us the chair. Actually, if they could just brig the chair legs, thad will be fined."

His guard was well trained, but not even his training could keep the look of bewilderment off of his face as he nodded and bowed and turned to go do his guardly duty.

When he was gone, Aragorn looked at Legolas scornfully. "A wid piged id ub and drobbed the chair?" 

"Did you have a better explanation for how a chair falls from the balcony by mistake?" Legolas snapped back.

Both thought it would likely be better to speak on it no more, and so they waited in silence for their weapons to be brought to them, which they promptly were.

The guard handed Legolas four chair legs and then stood uncertainly.

"Thad will be all," Aragorn said and waved a hand in dismissal, but called to the guard before he closed the door. "Oh, ad please, no word aboud thid to addywad. Would nod wand to worry the Queed with repords of dadgerous wids. She has enough to worry aboud."

When the guard was gone again, man and elf each selected his weapon and faced off, bowing formally as they each grasped their chair legs, which would have better served as clubs than swords.

"Yours id longer," Aragorn complained.

"I always suspected," Legolas returned dryly and was ready for and easily parried Aragorn's lightning strike in response. 

And neither of them noticed, as the fever of their own battle climbed, that Aragorn was sweating profusely, his fever finally broken. 

*******

Okay, just so you saw above, this is not the last chapter. 12 will wrap up this story and then the sequel will begin at the same time. However, I am going on vacation this week and will not be back until May 24th or so to update. (Unless I get really inspired and write another chapter before leaving on Thursday…but I may work on my other story a little and try to get a preview of that posted) Please don't forget me or these two poor fools at each others throats.

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For you all:

**TrinityC**: I drank many margaritas. For you, for me, for the Kig, the elf. The orc in the back row at Helms Deep. You know. I'm a giver. As far as your dead line, you'll make it. This is my new philosophy in life: it will all get done. It's a very simple philosophy, but what more do you want from me? All my other words are turned in on papers to professors!

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Nimue: You joined the story just in time for the bludgeoning to resume! LOL! I love the world phelgmy. In fact, I think it may be my new all-time favorite word. And yes… though Aragorn is the height of manliness…to me this was all the more reason why he'd be super-wimp with the cold. All men's powers and goodness seems to reverse equally when they contract an illness! Thanks so much for reviewing! 

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Lusha: wow! I've got a story that needs a warning! I'm so proud, you've made my day! I had another reader who kept falling from her chair…I think she placed pillows there in the end in anticipation, which delighted me to no end, but of course, that's a lot of pressure on a girl to write a story in which those pillows get used. And yes, I'm trying to make all my readers get colds so that I can use them for research of how things will sound! South Africa! My uncle was just there, I believe. He's one of these galavanting types that can be anywhere…but I've heard it is a wonderful place from him.

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JEbb: It's the least I can do to try to keep you entertained, because in return I am totally, totally amused by these reviews. And yes…in 12…the elf will get his own.

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Daw the minstrel: I think is was Mouse who wanted a Legolas impression, and I just had to do that one, because I walk around muttering "They are all going to die" to myself in elvish sometimes…usually when I'm driving, as today when I made my 5.5 hour trip home and people wouldn't get out of the fast lane. Perhaps I shouldn't disclose this kind of information…

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Bant: Well thanks! You're sweet! I hope I can keep it up.

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Nilmandra: Okay, you're absolutely right, as usual. Fan fiction is GOOD for the studies…yes. It is primarily concern for my studies that had me abandoning all papers to chase plot bunnies across my desk. Thank you for understanding what none of my professors can. Okay…I'm sensing a bias here for the "charming elf." Who would've thought it? 

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Pie: I would totally go to see the two movies back to back. Do you know I never saw FOTR on the big screen (GASP!) I know, I know. I just didn't think it was something I'd like. Then a friend made me watch it, and now she's very, very sorry because I dragged her to see TTT many, many times and like to do my Gollum in public to embarrass her. I hope they do something like that here…maybe after the 3rd movie's been out for awhile…a 12 hour movie screening! Wow. Oh! And thanks for the explanation of doonas. I like that word a lot too. I understand now. 

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DragonEyeZ: Hi! Thanks so much! The accent has been work…let me tell you. It's been me sitting in my apartment and talking to myself like I have a cold. Craziness, I tell you. I'm certifiable. I must give credit where credit is due…the wiping the nose thing was actually a reviewer's idea, Snowballjane….and I loved it too. I forgot that I could use it again!

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JastaElf: After reading your work, I'm seriously honored that you took time to review this story. I just saw that you're the mastermind behind "The Scruff Factor" story I keep seeing and I always mean to read it but now that I'm out of the hell of finals, I will definitely be checking it out! 

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Zoya: Wow, two reviews! What a gift! Yes, I did dances, I offered prayers and sacrifices to the Gods, I did it all and now I really am officially on vacation! But yes, I decided Legolas needed to do some deep soul searching in this chapter. You can see how that turned out…

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Dragon-of-the-north: I still feel a little in finals mode, like I should be frantically studying or writing something. I'm ready for that to go away so I can just RELAX. As for Arwen's ability to handle male person's…I don't think it's fair that she so effectively handles them, and then there's me…I need to learn from this elf. And I drew the sword fight away for one more chapter…but it IS coming next! The whole chair thing was quite unexpected but occurred to me as I wrote it. I hope your wrist is feeling better! 

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Elessarfanatic: Hey, I'm used to my old college roommate calling me that (she did tonight as a matter of fact as I was talking to her on the phone for the first time in forever), so no problem. I pretty much answer to anything, apparently. LOVED your 50 ways to fail exams, however, THAT I could probably figure out. But if I ever need to fail an exam, I'm opting for "pretend to be a windmill." And yes, I'm sitting in my room, pretending to be a windmill right now. It's kinda fun.

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tapetum lucidum: Hi Doc! Do you make everyone who you've ever known call you DR. after all this work? I've tried to get my friends to go ahead and try it out, but strangely they are unreceptive. What's your doctorate in? LOL. Dr. and Mr. Grima…I think that's going to stick with me.

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Dot: I know! Don't you hate when you've got mounds of work to do and everyone else is finished? My roommate used to always flaunt it when she'd get done before me…not that I would er, um…ever do that to her. No, precious. And I have stuffed my little muse in a little box with bubble wrap, poked some holes in it, attempted not to bend its little fluttery wings, and shipped it to the Emerald Isle. If it makes it, I'm going to stuff myself into a little box with bubble wrap, poke some holes in it, attempt not to bend my fluttery wings, and ship myself there too. Look for me in 6-8 weeks. Good luck with your stuff!

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Trustingfriendship: Thank you, thank you! Quarters! BLAH! I do like semesters better I believe...however, yes, I stand by my prescription for success in finals…study for 20 minutes, read a chapter…eat a hot fudge sundae, read a chapter, study for 20 more minutes. I mean, they do say that you stop retaining info after 20 minutes. I like this theory. And good luck! 

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Kaz: How's the new puppy! Sounds so cute! And yes, everyone around me can seem to do about twelve things at once…I can't talk on the phone and walk down the aisle of a grocery store…I have to stop, huddle by the canned goods, and continue the conversation.

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Alice: That joke was good too. It reminds me of another of my dad's favorites which is: Why did the squirrel fall out of the tree? Because it was dead. You can see where I get my twisted sense of humor from now. And no, I would never, never kill the Kig. Perhaps the elf though. Tell your sister Hi!

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Mouse: Well, it was the least I could do since you offered to Beta! And speaking of, I'll probably send you a chapter as soon as I get back from vacation!

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Sami: Hey, it was a good idea! Thanks again for that (still, how many chapters later, it's there!). Thanks!

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Tessa: Never fear! The Kig will be in full force in the sequel. I was sad to end it too, so here I go with another attempt at "funny." Thank you, thank you.

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Semmerie: Hope the medicine helped! Apparently you at least found a happy place too, so that's good. LOL! And I know better than to mess with someone on Somneil root, so I'm handing over the chapter and backing away SLOWLY, hands up. And man, I should have had Aragorn do Yoda! Or Alf…or Dobby from Harry Potter.

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Blahblah: Yes, the promised swordfight draws very near.

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Hoppi: thanks! Comedy's something I haven't really tried before now, so I find it very rewarding…and relieving….every time a new chapter gets good responses, because sometimes I'm like, this is the most UNFUNNY thing in the world that I've just written…and then other times, I amuse myself to no end, and don't even care if no one else gets it…but then I remember that I'm not very deep and if I get it, everyone gets it! LOL! And yes, type that story up!

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Estelcontar: Hey! I'm there for the frozen margaritas, any time, any place! (I started without you last week….sorry, but hey, you went out and did the same thing, so we're even). And I did not get poisoed, so all was good. It is probably seriously better NOT to think too hard about where I come up with all this stuff. I prefer not to face it…denial. I deny everything. All charges. And thanks for my review of my sad story…lol. It's my true love, all the angst, and no one believes me.

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The Insane One: Okay, didn't have the energy to do that little alternating upper and lower cases…but after the review, yes, me thinks it IS your title! Hee. Just kidding. 

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Laura: Yes, it's been very hard to convince them to hold off for one more chapter. Both were at each other's throats and I said "wait!" and they looked at me, paused in mid-lunge and said, "you've GOT to be kidding me!" Anyway, thanks for the congrats…but I'm just done with my first year…out of four. Sigh. To be completely done. Wow. That'd be good.

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SilverWolf: Hi there! Thanks for reviewing…I'm so glad you liked both stories. Dragons or Ribbons was an attempt at subtle humor gone bad…and well, this one, this one never had a chance of subtlety. Jim Carrey, meet LOTR! And the cold speak is very, very "contagious." I find myself writing it for other characters without colds when I'm not paying attention, so be forewarned! And I promise that legolas will be paid in full for all his kindness to the Kig!

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Arwen Undomiel: Is there no end to this girl's madness I ask you? Good Lord. You too? You and Michelle Frodo are going to have to…I don't know…hypnotize her and convince her she's not the Kig…and that she's a chicken instead. Thanks for reviewing! Writing a little note is the least I can do to you guys who take time out to review!

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Legy(AKA DA KIG): Oh My Goodness…your people are about to rise up in revolt against their Kig. You've been forewarned. And no, no, see I'm finishing this story, but picking up right where it leaves off…so it's basically just a title change, not an ending! Feel better? Don't go all Kig-mental on me. Now, children, children…stop writing on one another during your english lessons. You should be paying attention! I do not want to be held responsible for your academic downfall…being responsible for mine is quite enough of a burden!

Okay, those responses took me a bit and I didn't proofread them. If they make no sense….well, what's new really? 

I LOVE me some reviews! 


	12. Healing Hands

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Sneezes and Sword Fights

By Joanna

Chapter 12: Healing Hands

Legolas had to admit that he was taken a bit by surprise at just how ferociously Aragorn attacked with his chair leg. Because he was not prepared for such strength from the King after watching him lay in bed day after day, he found himself pressed backwards toward the wall in the initial strike.

Annoyed that he'd been waiting hand and foot, beck and call, on someone who clearly had not been ill enough to warrant it, Legolas decided it was high time to turn the tables. 

He growled in response and moved to defend himself with vigor, and the chair legs shuddered against one another as he pushed Aragorn back to the center of the room, admiring the deftness with which Aragorn dodged the table. 

"Ready to surrender, sickling?" Legolas panted.

"I do nod thig sicklig id a word," Aragorn wheezed in response and pressed forward again and they circled the room anew, pressing then falling back, pressing again.

"Neither is Kig, but you seem fond enough of it," Legolas returned and ducked as Aragorn's chair leg came at his head. He felt the press of air from the wood just before there came a sound of shattering glass.

For a moment, both paused, dropping weapons to their sides as one of the large floral vases Arwen was so fond of, now sporting a large hole in its side, teetered on its pedestal.

Dumbly, and making no move to stop it, elf and man watched as it finally toppled over to the floor and separated into a million pieces.

"You dugged!" Aragorn accused after a moment of stunned silence.

"Of course I ducked!" Legolas snapped. "Did you honestly anticipate my standing still while you swung a club at my head?"

"Noooo," Aragorn responded indignantly. "I just did nod thig you quick enough to avoid id." 

"I had time to drink a cup of tea and restring my bow, Elessar," he returned.

They both looked back to the flowery shards of glass littering the stone. 

"You are going to receive punishment for that, I'll warrant," Legolas sighed.

Aragorn looked for a moment as if he might deny it, then sighed heavily and nodded. 

"Do you wish to quit now, before you get into more trouble?" Legolas pressed in a moment.

"On your guard," Aragorn snarled in response and raised his club, and around and around they went. 

*

And so it was that Arwen found them as she stepped into the room, after a guard had sent for her with reports of shattering glass and shouts from within the chamber. Two of her beautiful vases lay in pieces upon the floor, the flowers they had held scattered over them, almost as mourners place roses over graves. 

She narrowed her eyes in disapproval as she looked toward elf and man. They were both red-faced, and her husband was glassy-eyed and dripping sweat, and so intent were they upon their contest of strength and manhood that neither noticed her. 

She arched one eyebrow in disbelief as she recognized it was not clubs in their hands, for she had been preparing herself to scold the guards for disobeying her explicit order to allow no weapon to pass into the room. 

Nay, it was chair legs. They were creative. She would have to give both the fools that much credit, she supposed. Not only were they destroying her decorative pieces, but perfectly useful furniture as well, it seemed.

Legolas was at the moment being pushed backwards by Aragorn, who looked as if he were battling all the orcs left in the world, so great was his concentration. Arwen watched as the elf leapt easily upon the table in the room in order to try to regain the advantage from higher ground, and she saw his boots leave a dark mark on the fine wood of the surface.

And she decided that they both must be destroyed. 

*

Legolas found himself in an increasingly defensive role. Aragorn was swinging madly, lost in both the competition and bloodlust of the victory he sensed was near, and he was no longer sparring playfully but with full strength, as if with an intent to kill.

As Legolas leapt upon the table, a flash of midnight blue at the doorway caught his eye, and instantly he knew it to be Arwen and wondered how long she'd been standing there, seething. He glanced quickly at her, saw the look of wrath upon her fair face, and forgot his current foe altogether in fear of this new one.

Aragorn, either his senses still dulled enough by the Somneil root, or his ears too full of the roar of blood in his head, did not hear or see his wife enter, nor heed her presence now. He advanced on Legolas with purpose for the blow that would relieve the elf of his weapon and thus signal the end of the fight.

Caught in mid-swing, it was far too late for Aragorn to pull back the swing as Legolas paused suddenly, fingers still gripping the chair leg tight, but his attention fully focused on the doorway.

Though he realized his wife must have returned, Aragorn had no time for thought save that one, as his heavy wooden chair leg smashed down upon Legolas' fingers as they held the weapon.

All parties in the room heard the unpleasant popping sound in the moment before Legolas howled in pain, and staggered backwards, his feet quickly running out of table. His body folded as he fell from his perch and landed hard upon his rump on the stone floor, for he was unable to catch himself with his hands.

Blue and white lights danced in front of his eyes as he landed, and through his darkening vision, he sought a view of his fingers. For a moment, he remained as he'd fallen, as blood rushed out of his head and he swayed, sitting there upon his aching bottom as he surveyed his fingers. All of them, save his thumbs, were bent at unnatural and wavy angles and already swelling grotesquely.

He looked up to see Aragorn's face gone slack and pale with horror, them promptly closed his eyes and flopped backwards onto the floor in a dead, and welcome, faint.

*

First, there was a smell. A strange smell, sharp and acrid, and it burned his nostrils as he flared them. Annoyed, he tried to bring a hand to cover his nose, to wave away the unfamiliar scent.

And he nearly gouged his eye out in the process and motion sent a jarring pain through his finger. In an instant, he remembered Aragorn's blow catching him off guard and the fall from the table. He shifted and nearly cried out at the pain in his lower back and rear, dropping his hand back to his side. 

"He's comb to! The smellig salds worked." 

He heard Aragorn's voice from high above and opened his eyes in time to see Aragorn, Arwen, and the Warden of the Healing Houses bend over him. He was still stretched out on his back in Aragorn's chamber. 

Twitching his fingers experimentally, he found them stiff and aching, but not unbearably sore. Raising his hands from his sides he discovered that in the time he'd been…asleep, for he refused to acknowledge that he'd fainted, though he strongly suspected that he had, either the Healer, Aragorn, Arwen or some combination thereof, had splinted all eight of his broken fingers. The long, flat pieces of wood latched tightly to his fingers prevented him from bending them in the least. 

"How do you feel?" Arwen asked gently, her soothing touch upon his brow.

Legolas found he was not in a charitable mood. "How do you think I feel? Your husband has maimed me!"

"You are not maimed, Legolas. Elf bones mend very quickly. A week, two at most, and you will be back to your former arrow hurling self," Arwen comforted, but Legolas did not look away from the glare he'd fixed on the King.

"I ab sorry! You were subbosed to move in timb!" Aragorn protested, and looked genuinely horrified to have inflicted such damage.

"If you had not the senses and grace of a blind and deaf oliphaunt, perhaps you would have also noticed your wife had stepped in the room." 

"And if you were faster thad a dead slug, you would have beed able to ged oud of the way," Aragorn returned, but seemed to find no real joy in the insult.

Arwen looked as if she might scold them, then took pity on both Legolas and Aragorn, both seemingly punished enough in different forms for what had transpired. At least for the moment. Later, oh yes…there would be a price.

"Come Legolas, let us get you into the bed," Arwen suggested and moved to help Legolas to his feet by placing a hand under one arm. The Warden moved back as Aragorn moved to Legolas' other side and did the same.

Legolas yelped in pain and pulled his arms free of his friends. "Leave me here!" 

"Have you another injury?" Arwen asked carefully, looking Legolas over.

Pride and need warred in Legolas before he nodded.

"Well, what is it? Perhaps I can help," the Warden said softly, coming forward again. "Where are you hurt?"

Legolas clenched his jaw for a moment, then suffered the indignity of informing them, "my southern regions."

"Your feed?" Aragorn asked in confusion and moved to examine Legolas' boots.

"No," Legolas began.

"Your legs then?" Arwen persisted. 

"Perhaps his knee?" the healer questioned and lay a hand gently across Legolas' knee.

Feeling his face flush with heat, Legolas mumbled. "My posterior area."

"Leave it to an elf," Aragorn muttered then asked bluntly, "you mean your arse?" 

Legolas wished for death to take him. "Yes."

And Aragorn seemed to forget that he was supposed to be riddled with guilt and titling his head back, he roared with laughter.

"I think I've broken something there as well," Legolas whined.

It took both Aragorn, Arwen, and the Warden to do it, but before long Legolas found himself sitting on Aragron's bed on a throne of three pillows, with his splinted fingers sticking out from his hands like spikes on a porcupine. 

"You will be sore for several days, and naturally, there is very little you can do for yourself with your hands so injured. You will need care," the Warden told him.

At Arwen's poignant look, Aragorn came forward and sighed. "It is the least I can do to offer my services in caring for the injuries I have inflicted."

"You have done quite enough, thank you," Legolas snapped, and tried to shift from one side of his bottom to the other so that he could stand the pressure of what the Warden had guessed was a cracked tail bone. "I will go to the house of healing." 

"We cannot let you go to the house of healing when you will be so much more comfortable here," Arwen protested and sat gently on the bed beside him. "You must stay right here. You are our guest."

"I had forgotten. In the last days, I assumed I was your slave," Legolas muttered at Arwen who gave him a reproachful look.

"There is no need for a loss of manners," she informed him.

"Tell that to the barbarian you call your husband," Legolas snapped back and gestured with a stiff hand. 

"I insisdt, mellod nee. I will give you the samb care and consideration you have gived be these last days."

Legolas looked with alarm into Aragorn's eyes and thought he detected just a spark of threat in those words.

"I promise," Aragorn added and Legolas looked to Arwen for help.

She was nodding in agreement though, and looking at Aragorn. "It is the least you can do, Aragorn, for being so careless. And when you are both well, you shall ride to the end of the earth if necessary and find me two vases like the ones you have destroyed."

Aragorn and Legolas glared at one another, for each had destroyed one vase, and each had seemingly forgotten the one he himself had destroyed.

The Warden opened his bag and withdrew a vile that seemed to contain the same revolting black liquid that Aragorn had been forced to take.

"This will help with the pain you feel, Master Legolas. I would advise you to take it," the Healer said.

"Oh," Aragorn smiled sweetly. "He will tag id." 

And upon seeing the smile on that face, had he been able to move, Legolas would have bolted for the gates of Minas Tirith with all due speed and never looked back. 

As it was, with his hands of no use to him and his rear end too sore for even slight movement, the elf suddenly found himself completely and utterly at the _Kig's_ mercy.

****

The End (of this story…the saga continues soon in "Slings and Arrows.") 

I know I said I'd post the first chapter of the sequel at the same time, but until I feel funnier, I think I will hold off. Anticipate struggles with medicine, meal times, answering the call of nature, and the return of Gliriel and hair-braiding in the third bit to this ridiculous trilogy. 

If you would like to be emailed when I post the new story, please either email me and let me know at gliterin2000@yahoo.com, or say so in a review which includes your email address. Or, just keep a look out for "Slings and Arrows," which I will hopefully begin early next week.

I wish I'd finished the story before going on vacation, because it turned out to be very hard to get back into. Sorry for the wait! I hope you're not disappointed with this last chapter, though it is not really a last chapter so much as prologue to the new story, perhaps. All these flattering reviews have intimidated me a little bit in the end!

Oh! And in the mean time, advertising again, I've posted the prologue of my new dramatic piece called "Broken Sky" which is an ensemble piece set after ROTK. I'll be updating it in a day or two as well, and it is shaping to be a very long piece. 

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And for the last time for this part of the story, my many, many thanks to you guys who made the unbelievable stress of finals so completely bearable and gave me something to look forward to when I signed onto my computer, which otherwise would have been only essays, more essays, and the occasional powerpoint presentation. 

Ushmushmeifa: I would NEVER want to do anything that was bad for your health…unless of course I could promise to deliver Legolas to nurse you back to health…I am glad you liked it though!

JeBB: Well, now that you see the consequences of dueling with chair legs, I do hope if a national craze starts, everyone will see that I warned them what could happen!

Zoya: So I'm guessing I answered who the triumphant victor of that particular struggle is…merely a battle though, not the war!

Daw-the-minstrel: I know…I know. I've given these heroic middle earth males all the hang-ups and ridiculous behaviors of present day males. What have I done to Tolkien's valiant species. Sigh. Leave it to me.

Mari: Lateness is forgiven as I was skirting "will she ever update again-ness." Well, so the effects of the drug were perhaps not COMPLETELY worn off just yet…but I imagine nearly killing the elf sobered him up for good. 

Alice: There's more to the joke…Why did the monkey fall out of the tree? Because he was dead. Why did the squirrel fall out of the tree? Because he was stapled to the monkey. Snort. If I could have made the last chapter as funny as that, well, I'd retire grad school and go into comedy full time. But alas, I suppose I'll be back in school.

Mouse: Hello! I did have a great holiday, thanks, and yes…strong winds, unbreakable dwarf chairs…I just couldn't compete with that in this chapter, I'm afraid.

Xero: Consider your demands eagerly met! Yes, I gave the victory to Aragorn, poor man. I just thought he'd been through enough in this story that he deserved a victory…however temporary.

Dot: I don't know if I can even speak to you knowing that you went to Paris! Oh, I'm so very jealous. And then asking if I felt guilty for leaving you hanging…when you're out strolling by the Seine…oh, yes, I'm heartbroken. Blah to you, I say! Anyway, hope you had fun (no, really, I do). I did have a very good vacation, thank you! 

Dragon-of-the-North: No, no, your title is absolutely better! I think I will change when I do revision in a week or so and move my review responses to one chapter in the end, if you don't mind! And yes, Legolas lies about as good as I do…LOL. I decided that I would make him share the 'deer in the headlights think quick' sickness that I have. As for the sequel…perhaps not Gondor reigned by a notorious madman so much as Legolas reigned by a notorious madman…I like it. I like it. There's my summary! J 

Nilmandra: Hi! So yes, elflings will be elflings…and elflings will be made to lose the use of their hands for a week or two…and so on. I believe after this, the Warden will be moving from the houses of healing, and into the nursery with Legolas' murals painted on the walls. 

TrinityC: Things still going okay at work, I hope? And yes, the King is on the road to recovery, though I fear for him when the elf regains use of his hands. Oh well, I can hardly be responsible for what they do to each other any longer.

tapetum lucidum, AKA Doc: I used to seriously want to be a vet, till I rode around with our large animal vet and learned it isn't fun to be slung into walls by sick horses. So I took the easy way out. My infinite respect to you, my friend. Hey! Southern girl in the house here too! Anyway, yes, I decided that elves, being such prideful things (in my perception of them anyway) must have some testosterone in their blood. Thus I reduced these two to neanderthals…I just realized the connection. Clubs…fighting…hmm. I should have delved more into the symbolism there. 

LegyLuva: PLEASE do not be mad, de Kig, that I didn't post chapter one of the new story. It's coming, I promise. Do not banish me forthwith from the kingdom of fiction. Hope your exams went okay, and I am glad that you are capable of failing them all on your own. I'm very proud, naturally. 

Sami: Yes, the longest cold EVER. I must let him recover now, so that Gliriel can come in and braid legolas' hair again though.

Blahblah: Ah, I fear if you didn't think the last chapter was very funny you will not think this one was…I couldn't seem to bring the same level of absurdity of previous chapters. Alas, I tried for nearly a week.

ThE iNsAnE oNe: something about your little prance line in your review totally cracked me up. I just had this picture of someone marching around their computer desk. I don't know…it made me laugh. And hey! HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY TO YOU! Yes, you are clearly fully deserving of the title if you are prancing crazily in your home. 

Soul: Well, he is a man, after all. His IQ can't have been that high to start with…hee. Sorry, I have restored him though.

Semmerie: (coming out of hiding and speaking slowly and with hands held out) easy now! Okay, see, I would have given you warning, but didn't want to upset you twice and thought if you just had one big shock it would be easier than two warnings…or something like that…my apologies! So much for the antiques by the way. I tried to warn them. LOL, and I do hope you've glued your sister back together by now.

Jambaby: So, I was particularly fond of the last two lines of the last chapter too…I couldn't help myself. Hope to see you during the sequel!

Pie: Ah, I love your long stream of consciousness reviews…I mean, really. Each one is like a little movie…what kind of movie, I won't say. Thanks for teaching me a new word. Oh, and I even went to the movies once BY MYSELF to see TTT when all my friends were sick of seeing it for the third time. I don't even know my final count, but it's ridiculous, which by the way, I realize so was chapter 11. And yes, reading is ten times more appealing than work, school, or anything else at all. Hope all is going well in your new term…myself, I did have fun on vacation, but now I must prepare to teach a class in July.

Bant: thanks so much, you're very sweet. Here's the update, better late than never? And oh…as far as how to say they're all going to die, I could never spell it in elvish, but Legolas says it in The Two Towers. When it comes out on video, rent it and learn it, and say it whenever you're mad…it really helps.

Ccasey: LOL at your review. I would personally hinge my bets on the not enough sleep, but hey! Keep it up if it means you'll leave me funny reviews! Yes, I'm now more in awe of Arwen than ever. I wish that kings of men and prince elves would quiver before me…it must be that I can't conjure horses out of rivers or something that prevents me from really having that effect. I'm sure that's the only thing…I must give this some thought and stop rambling. 

Estelcontar: Yes! Cheers to new stories…and old stories…and semi-old stories…and all the stories in between. Or maybe we'll just drink without bothering to toast. I hope you're still addicted enough after this last chapter to come back for the sequel because I love your reviews. And lord…tell me that you didn't try to explain to your husband the insanity of this story…and just think…if the elf gets a smudge on his nose now…he can't even wipe it off! Ah, I like this possibility.

Silverwolf: I am not surprised at all. I think the story is contagious. It happened to several reviewers…except me and I was actually hoping for one because then I could write good cold speak. Of course, once I had it down pretty good, I did get an awful cold. It figures. Anyhow, I digress. Hope you're feeling better!

Lusha: Oh, I have let you down and failed in the warning system! I am so ashamed. And hey! You do good cold speak! Better than mine I think! I should have used you as a consultant, but alas, you were not here until the end! I did have a good holiday, thank you…and yes, it was 100 degrees in the desert, where I was for part of my vacation…so yes, it's getting quite warm over here! Good luck with your exams! It was a good study break writing it in between my own exams! 

Sphinx: You know he'd kick (and break) pointy's arse! Is this payback enough? I mean, I wasn't sure what else I could do to the poor elf. And I've got to catch up to you on your story! And just for you, you have Arwen once again in this chapter!

Carrie: Thanks so much for your very kind review! I hope you liked the end and will like the new story as well. I thought of letting Eldarion get sick too just to see his father's reaction…but then, I thought the presence of the child might have somewhat restrained the behavior of man and elf….who am I kidding…they would have been at each other's throats anyway. Eldarion will be around in the sequel though, so there's hope of traumatizing him yet. 

Elmo: Thanks for my brownie points! The kids will make a much bigger appearance in the sequel, but they are fun to write! LOTR fiction is the first time I've really written children, and it's harder than I'd thought! And yes, I followed the unspoken 50s sitcom rule that no one ever uses the bathroom in this story, but it presents a world of possibility for the sequel. Thanks for reviewing!

Sigil Galaen: I recognize high praise when I hear it! I'm Insane! Thanks! And I'm glad I'm not the only one who snorts to herself as she walks around and thinks of amusing things. Some people just don't understand! You are so sweet and made me feel better about writing comedy…I do hope you still will feel the same now that the story's ended.

Hoppi: Hee. Hope your foot is okay after kicking the computer. I was kicking mine as well hoping this last chapter would finally write itself. Alas, it did not, and I finally set fingers to keyboard. 

Wellduh: Glad you like the idea of the sequel. I think I'll just keep pushing the boundaries of sanity until someone tells me to stop.

Mari: I'm responding to you two different times because your reviews are always so long and thoughtful and well, I'm too lazy to scroll up at this point! Legolas did try very hard, to his credit. I mean, for three minutes or more he placed himself in emotional turmoil in his attempt to do what is right…oh well. The chair…I had not expected it to be such a worthy foe, but alas, what could I do? I just pictured myself trying to break a solid wood chair and figured my arms would break first. And it grew from there. Ah. Life imitates Art. And Then Legolas and Aragorn thrust a chair leg through it.

Jastaelf: Ah, yes! More silly Aragorn and Legolas…what more could I ask…oh yes! Twins and Dwarves Oh my! I'm SO there for The Scruff Factor. Indeed. Yes. And as far as hugging or slapping them, definitely slapping I think, at this point. Yes. You know, I really didn't know if I'd get away with the "yours is longer" comment at the end, but I absolutely could not resist. I was physically incapable of deleting it, so I'm glad it was met with some approval! 

MichelleFrodo: You are forgiven, of course, but you must make a sacrifice of your arm to LegyLuva's pen for atonement. And I see Da Kig is dragging you down with her in English. Tisk, tisk. And wow, I gave you the hiccups! What do you mean it wasn't even that funny! Hey! I think I was just insulted in your review! Ah, anyway, enjoy your holiday if they don't make you repeat English!

She-cat: Thanks! For both this one and for Dragons or Ribbons. I'll look forward to more reviews…I never expected people to go along with me on the chair thing. I should have known you guys were as absurd as I! 

Jen: Well, if Legolas thought that before, he definitely knows she's going to find out now! Perhaps he was in denial for a moment…

DragonEyeZ: Well…splat. That was the sound of your hopes of Arwen not entering being dashed. LOL. I couldn't help it. The guards told her, not me.

Sid: Ah, my good buddy. Let me use this space to remind you that your toenails will be pulled out unless you have a prologue of your own LOTR story (I changed the rules, it has to be LOTR) to me by Friday morning. There. Thanks man!

Okay, that's it for this story. Let me say again how much I've totally, totally enjoyed your reviews. I feel like I know so many of you repeat reviewers and that's just been fun for me! You all, well, rock. I hope you'll come over to the sequel as well, so that this is not goodbye, but simply, well, goodbye temporarily, but not forever. 

My heartfelt thanks!  
Joanna

(And hey! My current goal in life is to break 300 reviews, so if you wouldn't mind leaving me just one more…I'll be a happy girl!)


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